Something Permanent
by l03l
Summary: It had been five years since Tony had seen Ziva when he called her, intending to salvage their friendship, only to realise that her life did not turn out the way he had naively hoped it would.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: not mine. **

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><p>PROLOGUE<p>

He couldn't believe it had been five years. Five years since she had said goodbye to NCIS, to her life as she knew it, to him. Five years since he had seen her face; five years that consisted of phone calls here and there, phone calls which became less and less frequent, until they stopped all together over a year ago.

He wondered if she looked the same; with the same long, wild hair, the same spark in her eyes. He wondered if she still messed up her idioms, if she still had the ability to one-up him at any given opportunity. He couldn't believe it had taken him this long to pick up the phone and call her.

"Hello?" She still _sounded _the same.

"Hi," he started, wondering if she still recognised his voice. "It's Tony," he added after a moment's pause – he had no desire to make the conversation any more awkward then it had to be.

"Hi," she breathed.

"How are you?" He asked, unsure of how to restart a friendship that had been dormant for over a year. He had all sorts of conversation starters planned, but they seemed to disappear the moment he heard her voice.

"I'm good. How are you?"

She was using contractions. Had it been _that _long?

"Pretty good. I know we haven't spoken in a while…" He trailed off, trying to think of the reason he had stopped calling. Why she had stopped calling. Some nights in the beginning they would stay up talking for hours… Somehow it all faded away. "I guess I just wanted to catch up, see how you were."

"I'm good. Could we have you over for dinner?" She offered, and he couldn't prevent the wave of disappointment that flooded through him. _We. _That small word made any ideal he had about Ziva's life evaporate completely. The disappointment was then replaced with guilt, because of his selfish hope that she was living alone; that things had somehow changed drastically since he last spoke to her.

"That sounds great," he managed. He still wanted to see her, even if he had to spend the time with her _and_ her perfect family.

"How is Friday night? Seven?" She asked hopefully.

"Sounds good," he answered again, without giving a thought to whether he had plans.

"Daniel may be late home from work, but James and I will be here."

"Great," he tried to sound enthusiastic, attempting to smile. Even if they were only on the phone, he needed all the practice he could get.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Hello, again :) okay, so a few things:**

**1. Chapters will be MUCH longer than this. This is just an introduction.**

**2. I intend to respond to every review for this story - I only just realised you can do that. Yeah, I'm not so great with these things. **

**3. I will update this story once a week. Well, I plan to. Life can sometimes get in the way.  
><strong>

**Thanks for reading, and if you have a moment, a review would be great. **

**- L**


	2. How's Life, Tell Me How's Your Family?

CHAPTER TWO – _"How's life, tell me how's your family?"_

He stood outside her apartment, trying to block the memory of the last time he had been here out of his mind. The day they had said goodbye. The day he had already replayed a million times in his head over the last five years.

He knocked softly, and she answered the door almost immediately. He wondered if she knew the moment that he had walked up to the door, like she would have five years ago.

"Hi," he gave her a small smile, and she grinned back, surprising him by leaning in for a hug.

"Hi," she responded, after they broke apart. She looked at him; a few more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes, his hair flatter then she had remembered it to be and his smile a few hundred watts less bright.

He couldn't help but stare. She looked similar to the first day she had stepped into the bullpen, changing his life irreversibly. Her hair was down and curly (still long), her face almost completely free of make-up, with exhaustion etched in every feature. She looked tired; even with a smile lighting up her face. "You look great," she finally managed, and he nodded in agreement.

"So do you."

"Come in," she offered, opening the door wide.

Her apartment was homey, which was something he didn't expect. The last time he had been here there had still been boxes everywhere, and her old apartment had been simple, basic. She led him to the kitchen, opening the fridge.

"Can I offer you a drink?" She asked, holding up a beer.

"That would be great," he nodded.

She took two out of the fridge, handing him one. He knew things weren't going to go back to the way they were instantaneously, but as the stood awkwardly in her kitchen, he found himself wishing they could.

"To old friends," he finally offered as a toast, and she smiled.

"Old friends." She agreed, as the bottles clinked together.

"Mommy!" Came a cry, as he heard the sound of little footsteps pattering down the hallway.

"What's wrong, baby?" Ziva asked, turning her attention away from Tony, and lifting the small boy up onto her hip. He had dark, curly hair, and looked so similar to Ziva that it was almost eerie.

"Who's that?" He asked Ziva, before looking to Tony. "Hi." He said.

Tony smiled. "Hi."

"Remember I told you mommy's friend Tony was coming over for dinner?" Ziva looked to the boy, who nodded. "What happened to your movie?" She asked, and the boy grinned, leaning closer to her ear and whispering.

"I wanna meet mommy's friend Tony," he said, loud enough for Tony to hear.

Ziva smiled, and set him down.

"Well, Tony, this is James, my son, and James, this is Tony," she introduced.

"You can call me Jamie," he told Tony proudly.

"Well thanks." Tony smiled, crouching down to the child.

"How old are you, Jamie?" He asked, although he knew the answer. He didn't know what else to ask a child.

"Four," Jamie answered, holding up his fingers.

"Wow," Tony replied.

"How do you know my mommy?"

"Well, I used to work with your mommy, a long time ago. Before she had you," he smiled.

"At the high school?" Jamie asked, and Tony frowned.

"No, somewhere else."

"Mommy said when I'm bigger I can go to the high school. Now I go to preschool."

"That sounds like fun," he answered, running out of questions to ask the four year old, when all he wanted to do was talk to his mother. He turned to realise that Ziva had disappeared into the kitchen, and was preparing dinner.

"Jamie, isn't it time for bed, baby?" She called, and a scowl passed across the boy's face. "Say ni-night to Tony," she told him, taking his hand.

"Ni-night, Tony," Jamie repeated, waving his little hand as Ziva led him down the hallway.

Ziva's son. He couldn't believe it. He could, to the extent that when she had left NCIS she had been pregnant, and the boy looked exactly like her. Big, dark eyes, dark curly hair. Most attractive kid he'd ever seen. Which seemed fitting, since he considered the boy's mother to be the most attractive woman he had ever met.

"Sorry about that." Ziva returned, a smile on her face.

"No worries. He's a cute kid," he offered, and the smile widened.

"Well, you ready for dinner?" She asked, as she returned to the kitchen, three plates already served with vegetables set out on the bench. She reached into the oven, pulling out a lasagne.

"I thought Jamie was going to bed," Tony stared at the three plates, confused.

"He is, Daniel should be home soon," she said, checking her watch with a nod, as Tony's face fell. "Jamie ate earlier." She explained.

Daniel. He hadn't liked him from the beginning. From the day Ziva had waltzed into the bullpen, just that little bit happier than usual, and explained that she had met a man. Daniel, to be more specific. A lawyer. Tony met him a few months later, and he still didn't like him. He wondered if it was really Daniel, or the fact that Daniel could make Ziva happier than he ever could. When Ziva left, he hated Daniel even more. He blamed Daniel for Ziva leaving, for his probie becoming his partner, and for the new probie one the team, the one who seemed ridiculously incompetent in the field. Truthfully, he knew Daniel wasn't to blame. But it was easier then blaming Ziva.

Ziva saw it in his eyes, the moment she said 'Daniel'. She watched his face fall as he realised that their evening would not be spent alone. That she had a new life now, one that did not include him.

"How is Daniel?" He finally asked, feeling guilty for the disappointment he felt when Ziva smiled at the mention of his name. The disappointment he felt when he realised their relationship hadn't crashed and burned like he had hoped. That she was still _happy_ with him.

"He's great," she almost gushed, as Tony wondered what had happed to _Ziva_. The Ziva he knew. The one who was tough, tougher than anyone he had met (except maybe Gibbs), and could kill someone with any inanimate object available. The Ziva who let very few people see her emotions, and how things like her sister's death affected her.

"He's pretty busy at work," she stated, although when it was 7.30 on a Friday night and he wasn't home, Tony found that to be fairly obvious. "But he's great. He never brings work home, and Jamie adores him. He always makes time for his son," she added.

He knew that of all things, that was something that Ziva valued above all else. She hadn't wanted her child to grow up like she had, with parents who were absent. Tony understood that desire, and that was the reason he hadn't pushed her when she had decided to leave NCIS when she was pregnant. He could still remember that day, the day she told him.

"_What was that about?" Tony inquired, as she returned from a meeting with the director. _

_She surveyed the bullpen – emptier than usual. _

"_I am leaving NCIS, Tony," she spoke softly, so softly, he almost didn't believe what he heard._

"_They can't make you return to Mossad, you're a citizen now –" she stopped him. _

"_They are not making me do anything." _

_Reality dawned on Tony, and he swallowed the lump that was growing in his throat, only to have another one form twice as big. _

"_You're leaving."_

"_I am. Gibbs already knows, I guess I will have to tell the others, now," she sat at her desk, turning to her computer like it was any other day. _

"_How long do you have left?" _

"_A few months. Then Daniel and I are going to start getting ready for the baby…" _

"_What will I do without you?" He blurted out, and she rolled her eyes._

"_You will find someone else to torment, I am sure," she laughed, but it was forced. _

_They both knew what he really meant. _

"That's good. Jamie seems like a great kid." He said, and she nodded, a smile spreading across her face. She seemed to smile every time the child was mentioned. Five years ago, she never would have been so candid with her emotions. They were guarded, rarely able to be seen or interpreted. But this Ziva was different, he realised. She was a mother. That still seemed strange. Even after five years, that had still failed to sink in.

The door opened, and Ziva turned to grin at Daniel, who dropped his brief case, hanging his jacket on the door. Ziva moved to him, kissing him quickly.

"How was your day?" She asked, and Tony frowned. He had never imagined Ziva to be this way. So smitten with ordinary family life. He couldn't imagine her going a day without threatening to kill someone, or cleaning her gun, or throwing knives, instead spending days making meals, cleaning, running errands.

"Good," Daniel smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You remember Tony," Ziva said, as Tony moved toward them cautiously.

"I do. Nice to see you again," Daniel smiled, holding out his hand.

Tony shook it. "You too," he lied.

He was _too_ perfect, Tony decided in that moment.

"How's NCIS?" Daniel asked, and Tony nodded, taking a sip of his beer before responding.

"It's good. Can't say I don't miss having Ziva watch my back out there, though," he admitted as Daniel smiled.

"I'll bet."

"How's the new girl working out?" Ziva asked, as she took the plates from the kitchen over to the table.

"She's okay. When we're in the field I almost worry more about her accidentally shooting me then one of the bad guys getting me," he laughed. "Nah, she's alright. Good with computers, like McGee."

They took a seat at the table, Tony marvelling at the smell of a home cooked meal.

"How is McGee?" Ziva asked.

"He's good. Has a girlfriend, shocker," he paused, smiling when Ziva looked at him pointedly, just as she would have years ago. "Her name is Rebecca. Not much else has changed. We still miss you."

Ziva gave a small smile, before turning to face the hallway, where Jamie stood sheepishly.

"I thought you were in bed," she said, as he ran out to the table.

"Daddy didn't come in and say goodnight," he complained, as Daniel stood.

"Sorry, buddy, how about I come tuck you in?" He asked, as Jamie nodded furiously, before leading Daniel down the hallway.

Tony looked at Ziva, who had a smile on her face, watching them together.

"He's a good father," she told Tony, knowing he had his doubts about Daniel.

"I can see that," Tony acknowledged. "Jamie said you were working at a high school?"

"Yeah, just part time, when Jamie has preschool. When he's at school I may become full time, I'm not sure yet."

"You're a teacher?"

"French and Spanish," she answered.

"Wow. I find it hard seeing you as a teacher." Tony admitted. "Bet you're a hard ass," he laughed.

"Yeah, well I have to threaten to kill someone now and then," she joked. "It's not as exciting as NCIS or Mossad, but it is good work,"

"Do you ever regret it, leaving?" He asked, and she looked up at him, seeing how earnest he was.

"Sometimes. But I get to spend the majority of my time with my son, and I wouldn't trade that for anything," she answered truthfully.

"You should bring him over to NCIS for lunch one day, I'm sure everyone over there would love to see him," he suggested.

"Maybe I will."

Daniel returned, taking a seat. "Sorry about that, he insisted I read him a bed time story."

Tony smiled. "You have a gorgeous kid, Daniel," he complimented him, slapping him on the shoulder.

Daniel smiled. "He looks just like his mom."

_That he does, _Tony wanted to admit, but knew it probably wasn't the best idea.

Ziva laughed, smiling. "I can't believe he is starting school soon." She shook her head. "Time goes by so fast."

Tony nodded, sighing. Five years ago he had naively assumed everything would always be the same. That they would always be a team, always be working for Gibbs; that they would spend the rest of their lives sitting across from one another in the bullpen, teasing each other mercilessly. He hadn't given a thought to the idea that one of them would move on into another stage of their life. He had never been good at growing up and moving on, when he had started work he was still a teenager at heart. It had taken him this long to move on from that identity. He never thought Ziva would be onto the next stage before he let go of the last one.

"So how's work going?" He asked Daniel.

"Can't complain. Pretty busy, but you know how it is," Daniel shrugged, and Tony bit his lip, resisting the urge to offer any response greater that a non-committal nod. _Yes, I do know how it is, but I don't have a family waiting for me at home_.

"You have a girlfriend, Tony?" Daniel asked, with no agenda behind the simple question, as Ziva's head snapped up, involuntarily curious.

"Nah, not at the moment." He replied casually. He hadn't had a girlfriend in years.

"Still the same old Tony," Ziva commented, and he shrugged, preferring to hide behind that person, the person he used to be.

He enjoyed the meal, regardless of a little too much affection between Ziva and Daniel – affection which he chose to ignore. He couldn't help but smile at the memory of Jamie, the boy's shy confidence, and the way he looked like a clone of Ziva, but just different enough to look like his own person. When they had said goodbye, promises had been made to speak soon, and he hoped that they weren't just said out of obligation on her part. She had always been the one person who wasn't afraid to stand up to him; to call him on his crap, and he loved it. That glint in her eyes when they challenged each other, the way they could push each other to the limit.

He returned to his apartment, opening the door and looking around. After Ziva's it was hard to consider his apartment a home. She had a family now, he forced himself to remember. She had a husband and a son, and he had… he surveyed the apartment. He had one night stands now and then, but it was harder than it used to be, finding women in bars desperate enough to sleep with him, knowing the relationship wasn't going to last more than twenty four hours.

Ziva had moved on, and in doing so, had left him behind.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**1. This **_**is**_** a TIVA story, I promise :P **

**2. Thanks for all of the review and alerts so far :)**

**3. Chapter names will all be lines from Taylor Swift songs (currently on a bit of a TS kick). If you guess the name of the song in a review, I'll give you a shout out next chapter**

**4. Review?**


	3. Every Time You Smile, I Smile

CHAPTER THREE – _"Every time you smile, I smile,"_

He debated whether or not to call her for over an hour. It was the next day; he didn't want to seem too eager. But on the other hand it wasn't the day after a date; it was the day after a dinner between _friends_. It still pained him to make that admission. In the end he called her before he could talk himself out of it for the hundredth time. He didn't want to lose her again because he left it too long to call.

"Hello?" She answered, and he couldn't help but smile at the sound of her voice.

"Hey, it's Tony."

"Hi," she answered carefully, eyeing Daniel only meters away from her, sipping coffee and looking at her questioningly, as if to ask who it was.

"Thanks again for dinner, it was really great seeing you," he said quickly, everything he wanted to say coming out at once.

"It was good seeing you too. I have really missed your company," she admitted, and at that, he couldn't help but grin.

"Can't blame you," he joked. "It was good seeing Daniel and Jamie again too. I'm not sure I have seen Jamie since he was a baby," he added. Honestly, he could remember the last time he had seen Jamie specifically, because it had been the last time he had seen Ziva, and that was a day that had been etched in his memory for a lifetime.

"_Tony," she smiled, as she opened the door. _

"_Hey," he tried to smile too, but his mouth wasn't able to twist into that expression. She opened the door for him, revealing Daniel on the couch, holding a three week old James against his chest, who was asleep. He motioned towards the corridor and Ziva nodded, as Tony followed her into the apartment. _

"_He's just putting James down," she explained._

"_How are you?" He asked, as she collapsed on the couch with a sigh. _

"_Tired," she smiled. "But good," _

_Daniel returned, taking a seat next to Ziva, far closer than Tony would have liked. _

_Daniel began to talk about the joys of fatherhood while Tony nodded here and there, his eyes trained on Ziva. She looked tired, but the happiness in her eyes was unmistakeable, happiness that sent a pang of jealousy to his stomach. All he could think was that he couldn't do this for much longer. Watch them together, all happy and perfect. Ziva staring up at Daniel with unfounded adoration, Daniel boasting about his son. He had somehow become an outsider in her life, and it was a role he couldn't bear. He stayed with them an appropriate amount of time before saying goodbye, shaking Daniel's hand, and hugging Ziva just that little bit tighter than usual, before never returning._

"Has it been that long?" She asked.

She refused to admit to herself how long it had been since she had seen Tony and the rest of the team at NCIS. After Jamie was born she had put all of her effort into being a mother, something that she refused to mess up. Somehow everything but Jamie fell to the wayside. They would call, particularly Tony, but over time it seemed that they had less and less in common. Their days consisted of dead marines and solving crimes, while hers consisted of making lunches and reading bedtime stories.

"It has been too long," she decided.

"Maybe I could have the three of you over for lunch next weekend," he suggested, although he barely had any idea how to cook anything other than pasta, let alone cater for four people. When he was talking to Ziva, it was like words just tumbled out of his mouth before he could think them through.

"That sounds great. Or we could go out for lunch, unless your cooking skills have drastically improved," she laughed, and he couldn't help but join in.

"They haven't," he admitted. "But at least I offered."

"Well I'll talk to Daniel about it and get back to you," she promised.

"Great." There was a moment's pause, and before he could filter them, the words were coming out of his mouth.

"You know, if you ever need someone to babysit Jamie, I'd be happy to do it. I kind of get the feeling you don't get a lot of time off," he offered.

Suddenly he wanted any part of what she had. If he couldn't be with her, he could still be a friend. Do her a favour and get to know her son at the same time.

"That would be great, Tony. You have no idea how long it has been since Daniel and I had an afternoon alone together."

He heard Daniel speaking to her in the background, and tried not to listen, needing no further painful confirmation of their happiness.

"Hold on, Tony," she told him, and he realised she had blocked the receiver because he could no longer hear their conversation.

"Sorry, I'm back," she said, returning moments later. "Would it be too soon to take you up on that offer?" She inquired sheepishly.

"When are you thinking?" He asked, despite knowing that all he had planned for the next week was drinking, complaining that Ziva had a perfect life without him in it, moping, and maybe finding a girl to help him forget his misery for a few hours.

"Tonight?" She asked hopefully, and Tony bit his lip. What was he really going to do? Spend the night in a bar hoping to find a girl to take home and then never call again?

"Daniel was given these tickets from a client, and we weren't going to use them –"

"I'd be happy to." He answered honestly, as he realised he would rather spend the night with Ziva's son.

"Thank you," she sighed in appreciation. Honestly, she hadn't expected Tony to agree to watch Jamie so she could have time alone with Daniel. Maybe things really had changed.

"Could we bring him around at about five? He will probably have fallen asleep by eight at the latest, and we should be back by midnight, I hope." She explained.

"If you want, he could stay the night. Give you two a night by yourselves." He offered. "Seems silly to wake him if he's going to be asleep."

"Tony I can't ask you to do that," she responded.

"Do what?" He heard Daniel ask, and then suddenly the receiver was covered again. As he waited in silence, he was already regretting his offer. But since the words had already left his mouth, he tried to focus on the idea that it would make Ziva happy.

"Hi, Tony," he heard Daniel's voice this time.

"Hey, Daniel." He responded, unable to hide his disappointment that he was no longer talking to Ziva.

"Ziva's not too sure, but if you meant it, I'd love to take you up on that offer. I love Jamie, but a night alone with my wife is too good to pass up."

_Wife._ It still got to him that some other guy was calling Ziva his wife.

"I completely understand," Tony said, his uncertainty returning as he spoke to Daniel. Now for the rest of the day he wouldn't be able to forget that while he was babysitting Jamie, Daniel would be having sex with Ziva. The fact that he was practically endorsing it by watching Jamie just made the pain in his stomach worse.

"So I'll see you at five?" Tony asked, his tone having deflated significantly over the course of the conversation.

"Yeah, thanks again, man."

Tony hung up, and then looked around his apartment. He had week old pizza boxes stacked up in the kitchen and dirty clothes everywhere. He _really_ didn't think this through. He got two garbage bags, filling one with rubbish, and the other with dirty clothes. He then realised he had nowhere for the kid to sleep. He stripped his bed, putting the sheets into the bag with the dirty clothes. He took the trash out, and then did the laundry. By the time he had remade the bed – lucky kid was going to get his king sized bed while he took the couch – and had cleaned the bathroom and had a shower, it was four thirty. He surveyed his apartment, knowing he had nothing to entertain a four year old. He looked at his DVD collection, severely lacking in DVDs for kids, before deciding they would have to go to the movies.

There was a knock on the door at five past five, and he opened it to find Jamie looking somewhat shy, Ziva looking nervous, but Daniel smiling.

"Hey, Tony," Daniel offered his hand, and Tony shook it.

"How's it going?" Tony asked, looking at mother and son. Ziva was wearing a simple red dress with subtle make up and her hair straight, framing her face. It had been a long time since he had seen her dressed up, and he couldn't believe it wouldn't be him that got to take that dress off her later that night.

"Okay," Ziva let out warily. "It's his first sleepover, and he barely knows you, so he's a bit nervous," she explained.

"He's not the only one," Daniel added, slipping a hand around Ziva's waist.

"Oh, we're going to have a great time!" Tony said overenthusiastically, not sure he was fooling anyone. "Come on in," he opened the door, as the three of them stepped in.

"I don't remember your apartment being this clean," Ziva commented, and he laughed.

"Yeah, I did clean up a bit. Come on through buddy," he said to Jamie, leading him into his room.

"You can put your stuff in here," he said. "This will be your room for the night,"

Jamie looked up at him with a smile. "Really?"

"Yes really," Tony smiled. He could understand why Ziva's face always seemed to light up at the mention or sight of her son. His smile was contagious.

Jamie climbed onto the bed, jumping up and down. "Cool!" He exclaimed.

"Jamie get down from there!" Ziva said, moving to lift him off the bed, now in full blown mother mode – something Tony found hard to adjust to.

He could now see that the dress was backless, and he swallowed, having to put his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to do something stupid.

"Where are you going to sleep?" She asked Tony, and he shrugged.

"I'll take the couch."

"We really should be going," Daniel told Ziva softly and she nodded.

"Okay, come on Jamie, baby time to say goodbye," she told him softly, pulling him into a hug.

"If you need us just call," she said, not letting go although it seemed Jamie was more than ready to.

"I'll miss you, baby," she mumbled, pulling away and looking him in the eye. "Be good for Tony."

"I will, mommy," he promised, as she kissed his cheek.

"See you soon, bud," Daniel said, hugging Jamie too. "We'll come pick him up about nine,"

"Eight," Ziva cut in, and Tony laughed.

"Whenever suits," he said, ushering them out the door. "Now go, so Jamie and I can jump on the bed," he urged, grinning wickedly at Jamie.

"Great. We're leaving our son in the care of a child," Ziva moaned, ready to call off the whole night.

"We'll be fine, Ziva," Tony promised, as they stepped outside.

"Give him something reasonably healthy for dinner, would you?" She asked and he laughed.

"Try not to call a million times," he said, knowing she would.

"Thanks, Tony," Daniel shook his hand again, before Tony closed the door. He turned around, but Jamie had already disappeared.

"Jamie?" He called, only to find him bouncing on the bed again.

He laughed. "Be careful, buddy, if you break your arm or something your mom will kill me."

"Mom wouldn't kill anyone," he said faithfully, and Tony shook his head. In a few years all of this kid's ideals would be shattered.

"Can I watch a movie before I go to bed tonight?" He asked Tony, pointing to the TV in the corner.

"Sure," he said. "In fact, I was thinking you and I could go see a movie tonight, if you want,"

"Really?" Jamie's eyes lit up. "Can we?"

"Absolutely. We can even grab some pizza on the way home. Unless you'd rather I come home and cook you something healthy like your mom said,"

Jamie made a face, and Tony laughed. "Sounds like a plan."

. . . . .

Half an hour later they were looking up at the movie times, Tony desperately searching for some kind of kids movie.

"Can we see this one?" Jamie asked, pointing to the movie poster.

"Whatever you want," Tony answered, after seeing the poster. Cartoon. Couldn't go wrong there, could he?

He successfully convinced Jamie that he didn't need a snack for the movie because they were having pizza for dinner, something he was strangely proud of. Jamie was stubborn, just like his mother, and Tony had never been able to convince Ziva of anything.

Jamie loved the movie, and seemed completely wired, feeding off excitement and a sugar high.

"Alrighty bud, how about we find us some pizza?" Tony asked, as they drove to the pizza place, after deciding on pepperoni, being Jamie's favourite.

"Do you love my mommy?" Jamie asked, and Tony frowned, his eyes flickering to the rear view mirror to look at Jamie. This was a four year old, what the hell did he mean?

"Yes. She's a very good friend," he answered carefully.

"Then why'd I only meet you yesterday? Mommy meets all _my _friends."

"Well…" Tony began, unsure of how to finish. "Your mom used to be my best friend. But then she married your daddy, and had you, and she had to spend her time looking after you."

"Who is your best friend now?" Jamie asked, and Tony shrugged.

"I don't know, bud," he answered, trying to end the conversation.

"I can be your best friend." He offered, and Tony smiled as he watched his brown eyes light up in the rear-view mirror. Ziva's eyes.

"That would be great," he answered, his smile widening into a grin.

. . . . .

"Maybe I should call and check up on him," Ziva suggested again on their way home. She had already tried to call three times – twice Daniel had stopped her, and the other time the call had gone straight to voice mail.

"It's after eleven, he's asleep," Daniel told her, and she rolled her eyes.

"That's what I want to check. Tony could have him up watching all sorts of movies. He's probably corrupting our son," she said as she searched for her phone in her purse.

"You trusted him with your life for seven years, and you don't trust him to watch Jamie for one night?" He questioned.

"This is different… It's Jamie."

They arrived home, and she flicked on the lights of their all too quiet and empty apartment.

"I miss him," she admitted, hanging her coat on the door, and moving into the kitchen, taking a bottle of water out of the fridge.

"Really?" He answered sarcastically.

"Haha," she responded dryly.

"I guess I'll just have to make you forget." He grinned, making his way over to her and capturing her lips with his. When they broke apart she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

He lifted her softly, placing her on the bench. He pulled her legs so they were wrapped around his waist, before kissing her neck.

"We couldn't do this if Jamie was here," he reminded her with a chuckle and she bit her lip, wondering why when she was standing here with her husband, all she could think of was Tony.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**1. Yay for iheartiva, Stella Celeste Taylor and MegpieLovesTiva (and Tiva. Ncis. Luv) who got **_**Back to December **_**as the song that last chapter's name came from. What's this one? :P**

**2. I got more reviews for the last chapter than I've ever got for one chapter before, so THANKYOU! It seriously made me so happy, keep them coming :) **

**3. You'll have to be patient with the Tiva (sorry), but it'll come. **


	4. Our Lives Would Never Be The Same

CHAPTER FOUR – _"Our lives would never be the same,"_

At six thirty, after a less than reasonable night's sleep on the couch, Tony was woken by an unusual weight on his back. He lifted his head to see Jamie, sitting comfortably on his back, watching the TV that Tony had forgotten to turn off the night before.

"Whatcha doing there, kid?" Tony grunted, trying to sit up. "There a reason you're sitting on my back?"

"Nowhere else to sit," Jamie explained simply and Tony sighed, knowing Jamie had a point – they were both currently on the only couch in the apartment. He picked the boy up and sat up himself in one swift movement, then set Jamie beside him on the couch with a smile.

"Can we go see my mommy now?" Jamie asked.

"Your parents are busy. They'll come and pick you up when they're ready."

"What are they doing?" He asked, and Tony sighed. Why did kids ask so many questions?

"Why don't you ask them when they come and get you in a few hours?" He suggested, standing.

"Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Ice cream," Jamie grinned.

"How about cereal?" He negotiated as he opened the pantry, finding no cereal in sight.

"Okay… How about left over pizza?" He asked, opening the fridge. There was still a slice left. He put it on a plate and gave it to Jamie, who was grinning in delight. Tony was pretty sure he had broken every rule of babysitting in one night.

"Now here's the important bit. You can't tell your mom."

Jamie nodded furiously, taking a bite of the pizza.

"If I don't tell my mom, can I go home after breakfast?" He asked, and Tony couldn't help but feel guilty as he stared into Jamie's dark, sadness-filled eyes.

"Haven't we had fun?" Tony asked, sticking his bottom lip out into an exaggerated pout.

"I still miss mommy," Jamie reasoned, a frown set on his face.

"You don't want to finish your movie?" Tony asked hopefully, remembering the movies they had rented the night before for Jamie to watch. "You only saw the start last night, and you have the second one to watch too."

"Can't I take them home and watch them with mommy?" He asked, and Tony shook his head in frustration.

"You drive a hard bargain." There was no negotiating with the kid. "You eat your breakfast, and I'm going to call your mom, okay?" He asked, leaving Jamie in the kitchen eating his pizza.

He rang her mobile, only to be greeted by her voicemail.

"Hey, Ziva, it's Tony. I've got one homesick boy here, and I'm fairly sure he will be conning me into taking him home in the next hour, so if you could call me back, that'd be good… Just giving you a heads up."

"Can I talk to her?" Jamie asked hopefully, as Tony hung up.

"Sorry, bud, she didn't answer. She's probably still asleep."

Jamie shook his head vehemently. "She's always 'wake before me,"

"Why don't you at least watch the end of the movie, so we can be sure that she's awake when we get there?" He suggested, and Jamie reluctantly agreed, as Tony followed him back to his room.

Jamie took the opportunity to jump on the bed as he watched the remainder of the film, which didn't turn out to take as long as Tony had hoped.

"Let's go, let's go!" Jamie said, bouncing off the bed and picking up his backpack as soon as the credits began to roll.

"Calm down," Tony said, looking around the room for anything that didn't belong to him. He couldn't understand how Jamie had so much energy, especially so early in the morning.

"Shouldn't you get changed out of your pyjamas?" Tony inquired, and Jamie shook his head.

"Don't matter."

"At least put your sweater on," he said, taking it from the backpack. "And your shoes," he found them at the foot of the bed, and helped Jamie tie them.

"Okay, let's go!" Jamie encouraged, but Tony looked down to realise he was still in his sweats and an old T shirt.

He pulled a sweater on too, and followed Jamie out to the car. He strapped him into the car seat Ziva had lent him, and twenty minutes later they were standing at Ziva's door. Jamie knocked loudly, before Tony could stop him.

"You don't want to wake everyone else," he told Jamie, taking his hand, and checking no angry neighbours were sticking their heads out their door.

A few minutes later Ziva opened the door, wearing nothing but a silk robe – similar to the one she had donned when they had been undercover all those years ago – her hair tousled, radiating sex. Tony wondered how Jamie could be so oblivious, when to him it was so blatant, so hard to ignore.

"Hi," he stammered, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Is something wrong?" She asked Jamie, concern flashing across her face.

"I called you…" Tony started, before Jamie interrupted.

"I missed you!" He exclaimed, and Ziva lifted him effortlessly onto her hip, as if he were still a baby.

"I missed you too," Ziva responded. "Do you want to come in, Tony?" She asked politely, but he shook his head.

"Nah, its fine." He handed her the DVD's he had rented for Jamie. "We rented these, he still hasn't watched the second one, I thought he might want to…" He trailed off, forcing himself to stare at the floor, and not at the way Jamie's weight on her hip was pulling the robe down, exposing her bare shoulder.

"Thanks," she bit her lip as she watched him, so uncomfortable. Daniel came to the door, slipping his arm effortlessly around Ziva's waist, and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Hey, Tony," he nodded, before turning his attention to Jamie.

"You're back," he exclaimed, as Ziva put him down. "Why don't you come put your backpack down?" Daniel suggested, leading Jamie into the apartment, and leaving Tony standing at the door, trying not to watch as Ziva straightened the robe, tightening the tie around her waist.

"Did everything go okay?" She asked, and Tony nodded.

"We had fun. He just, really missed you this morning. You may want to feed him some actual breakfast, though," he answered with a guilty smile.

Jamie came running back to the door, pushing past Ziva.

"Bye Tony," he said, hugging his leg. Tony crouched down, pulling him into a proper hug.

"Bye, buddy. Now remember what we talked about this morning," he told Jamie, and Jamie nodded.

"Don't tell mommy," he repeated in a whisper, but it was loud enough for Ziva to hear.

Tony smirked when Ziva glared at him. Five years ago, he would have been petrified by a look like that. Now? He felt something, but scared wasn't it.

Tony held out his hand as they did the secret handshake he had taught the boy the night before, and with another wave he had disappeared behind the door, having returned to his father.

"Was he good?" Ziva asked, as Tony stood.

He wanted to ask '_were you' _or something similar,but he wasn't sure whether it was appropriate in this new friendship they had started.

"He was. You have a great son, Ziva. I mean, he's cute, loves his movies, funny as hell. With a few tips from yours truly he'll be a heartbreaker in years to come. What more could you want?"

She gave him a small smile, shaking her head. "You are not teaching my son about women."

"Too late," he grinned. "Nah. That's something his father should do. After all, I'm one who's going home to an empty apartment every night, when he has you. Not easy to see who the winner is there." He said softly, full of sincerity before his face flooded with embarrassment. "I'll talk to you later." He mumbled, turning to leave. She grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Thanks for last night, Tony," she told him, leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah," he mumbled uncomfortably, trying to focus on not grabbing her and kissing her properly. He couldn't cross that line, he forced himself to remember. _She is married. She has a son. She made her decisions, many years ago. She doesn't want you._

She watched him leave, stunned at how he had grown up in the last five years; he had matured considerably. She closed the door once he was out of sight, joining Daniel and James in the kitchen.

"… and then we had dinner and watched _Shrek_," Jamie was telling his father.

"That sounds fun," Daniel answered as Jamie nodded.

"What did you have for dinner anyway?" Ziva asked, eyeing her son carefully.

"Pasta with veg-tables," he said purposefully. _Too _purposefully.

"James…" She warned and his eyes went wide.

"Tony said I can't tell you," he replied, but with one look from his mother, the words were spilling out of his mouth instantly.

"Pizza," he answered. "But don't tell Tony I told you!" He pled, and Ziva frowned.

"Why not?" She inquired.

"Tony said when your best friend tells you a secret, you don't tell anyone. Just like you don't tell anyone the secret handshake," Jamie explained.

"Best friends, huh?" Ziva asked, as her son nodded.

"Tony said that he doesn't have a best friend anymore cause you used to be his best friend, but then you couldn't be his best friend so I told him that I could be his best friend," he explained, only fumbling on a few words as he repeated what Tony had told him the night before.

"Really? What else did Tony say that was a secret?" Daniel asked with a playful smile.

"He said that he loved my mommy just like I do," Jamie answered proudly, not noticing the smile disappear from his father's face.

"How about you watch the movie Tony rented you?" Ziva suggested quickly, setting up the TV in the living room and making sure Jamie was fully occupied before leading Daniel into the bedroom. If they were going to fight, Jamie sure as hell wasn't going to hear it.

She looked at the room, completely dishevelled, clothes discarded all over the place, a lamp having fallen off the bedside table in their rush to find the bed in the dark.

She faced Daniel, wondering how a few words could change the mood so entirely.

"I knew it," he accused, facing her, as anger flooded through him. "He has always had a thing for you."

"He has not," Ziva defended. "Stop being ridiculous."

"Ever since the day I met him he has hated me for no other reason than the fact that I'm with you, and he's not."

"That's not true. He was my partner. Our jobs included protecting each other, having each other's backs. It is not my fault that he is overprotective," she said, trying not to overreact.

"It's more than that, Ziva, it always has been," he lowered his voice, not wanting to upset her any more than he had already. "Until you got pregnant, and then suddenly everything was different. He was no longer all over you, no longer correcting your grammar every second of every day. You never even told me what happened." He said, expecting her to tell him now. Her face flushed with the memory.

_She had spent the morning in the ladies bathroom, vomiting. When she returned to the squad room, Gibbs stood waiting. _

"_How far along are you?" He asked, and she wasn't even surprised that he had figured it out._

"_Eight weeks," she answered, looking at the floor._

"_Congratulations," he had kissed her on the cheek, and left without another word, leaving her in the bullpen, a little stunned._

"_You're pregnant," Tony's voice startled her, and she turned around to face him. _

"_Yes," she stated, recognising the anger in his eyes. _

"_Is it mine?" He spat, and her gaze returned to the floor again, suddenly passivity overcoming her, instead of the desire to fight back. He grabbed her arm, his nails digging into her flesh, causing little beads of blood to appear. Passive Ziva had always scared him. He was used to the Ziva who would never back down from a fight._

"_Is. It. Mine?" He asked steadily. _

"_No," she forced out in a whisper. At that he let her go, leaving her alone in the squad room. She had bitten her lip, not knowing the answer to his question herself. _

"He didn't like that I was leaving," she said lamely. "He thought it was because of you, and he didn't like the idea of having a new partner. And you were more than happy that he was out of our lives, that he was no longer an issue between us." Tears were in her eyes now, as she stared at him, and at that Daniel recoiled, regretting having upset her.

"I gave up my friends, my job, my life, for you. So that we could be a family. So I could look after Jamie, and so you could keep doing what you loved." She took a breath. "I don't regret it." She added. "We have the family I always wanted. But you never acknowledge the sacrifices I have made for us. And now you throw this in my face, when it's nothing? When all Tony has done is be a good friend? Give us a night alone together for the first time in years?"

He was sitting on the bed now, ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he started. He stood, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her into a hug.

"I do recognise the sacrifices you have made… Everything you have done for our family. For Jamie…" He pulled away from the hug, cradling her face in his hands.

"I love you so much," he said, kissing her lips softly.

"I love you," she replied, as she remembered her last year at NCIS.

_It had started just like any other day, but after the case had turned ugly, the kidnapped petty officer being killed minutes before they arrived to save her, they had both needed comfort. It began innocently enough. But a 'just stay the night' plea from Tony had resulted in her naked in his bed the next morning. Two weeks later, after they had sworn to forget it, she had met Daniel. The charming lawyer; he was almost too perfect. They were dating for five months before it happened again. It started with a kiss, a kiss she knew she should have prevented. _

"_Do not do this," she had begged him, knowing that if he kissed her again she wouldn't be able to stop herself. _

"_I love you more than he ever will," he murmured in her ear and whether it was true or not, she hadn't been able to bring herself to stop what happened next. _

_But three days later he was back to hitting on every woman they encountered, and she didn't break up with Daniel, like she had intended. It was a one night lapse in judgement, she had told herself. She was in a relationship with a good man who wasn't going to break her heart. A man she could love. When she found out she was pregnant six and a half weeks later, it seemed like some kind of cruel joke. There had been times she had forgotten a condom and gotten away with it, and yet now, the one time in her life she had slept with two guys in the space of a week when she was on the pill, she got pregnant._

_Tony's reaction made up her mind. He was angry, violent, before she even told him it wasn't his. After that he was less so, but he still wasn't Tony. He didn't want a child, he didn't want a family, and he didn't want her. He was committed to the life of a bachelor. Daniel wanted kids. He had a good job – he could provide for a family without a second income, if necessary. He wanted children, they were in a normal, stable relationship, and he loved her. It had seemed simple, regardless of the child's paternity._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. Hats off to iheartiva and MegpieLovesTiva for the last chapter title :)**


	5. You Say That The Past Is The Past

CHAPTER FIVE – _"You say that the past is the past…"_

After spending so much time with Ziva over the weekend, it was hard for Tony to imagine going to work on Monday, and not having her there. Now that she was in his life, it was difficult to grasp the idea of them not working together. He almost wanted to believe he would enter the bullpen in the morning and find her there sitting at her desk, as if the last five years hadn't happened. But when he took his seat at his desk, it was Hayley sitting opposite him, giving him a completely neutral smile.

"Good morning Tony," she greeted him, and he smiled back.

"Morning. Where's McGee?"

He had actually resigned to calling McGee 'McGee', not probie. They had a new probie now.

"In MTAC with Gibbs," she responded, before returning to her computer and leaving them in silence.

. . . . .

By lunchtime, the case they had been working on had been solved, and they were doing paper work. _Paper work. _Because that would help him get his mind off Ziva. He sighed. They were working in silence, silence he had become accustomed to, as opposed to the banter they had when Ziva had been there.

"Ziva," McGee said, and Tony's head snapped up to see Ziva standing awkwardly outside the bullpen, as if she no longer belonged.

"Ziva," Tony echoed McGee's sentiments with a smile, standing. "Jamie," he added when he saw the boy.

"Hi Tony," Jamie answered quietly, and Tony frowned.

"You're being awfully shy," he said, crouching down to be level with Jamie.

"Who are these people?" He whispered in Tony's ear, and Tony turned, to see McGee looking at them in shock, with Abby and Ducky having appeared at his side, and Gibbs a few steps behind.

Tony looked up to Ziva to do the introductions.

"Well, this is Abby, Ducky, McGee and Gibbs," she said, and Jamie looked between them. "And this is Jamie," she smiled, and that seemed to signal to Abby that formalities were over, as she hurried toward Ziva and wrapped her in a hug.

"I've missed you," Abby said enthusiastically, and Ziva just smiled as she pulled away.

"I missed you too, Abby," she responded, although Abby had already turned her attention to Jamie.

"Hi Jamie!" Abby grinned, and Jamie just smiled shyly.

"Why are you being so shy all of a sudden?" Tony demanded kindly, and Jamie shrugged.

"They're all staring at me," he whispered, and they all laughed nervously, turning their gaze to Ziva.

McGee and Ducky each offered Ziva a hug, before Gibbs faced her.

"It's good to see you, Ziva," He said softly, giving her a hug and then a kiss on the cheek.

"How are you Jamie?" Gibbs asked, and Jamie gave him a small smile.

"Good."

"You know the last time I saw you, you were this big," he said, holding out his hands. "You've grown a lot,"

"Thanks. Mommy gives me lots of 'egtables so I'll grow big and strong like daddy,"

Gibbs smiled. "I bet you will."

"I brought lunch," Ziva stated, holding up the paper bag. Tony opened it to find burgers for everyone, even Hayley, who had returned from the bathroom, unsure what to make of this gathering in the bullpen.

But with one look from Gibbs they were back to work, eating as they typed, as Ziva and Jamie went down to Abby's lab.

"Looks the same down here," Ziva commented.

"Things have changed," Abby said neutrally, looking at Ziva.

Jamie tugged at Ziva's shirt, and she leaned down as he whispered in her ear, pointing to Abby's chair.

"He wants to know if he can spin on your chair," she explained, and Abby smiled.

"Sure you can," she beamed at Jamie.

Ziva lifted Jamie and she pushed the chair, which spun slowly.

"Faster, mommy. Daddy spins me faster than this!" He exclaimed, and Ziva shook her head, spinning the chair at the same pace.

"How's Daniel?" Abby asked politely, and Ziva smiled.

"He's great."

"You know you could have called," Abby turned to face Ziva, her face indignant.

"I've been busy…" Ziva responded, the excuse sounding pathetic even to her own ears. "I just…" she began unsure of how to finish the sentence. _Wanted to stay away from all things Tony? Have a clean break; a new life? _

"I'm sorry," she finished instead, and Abby smiled.

"It's okay. You know, you've changed, Ziva." Abby said, biting her lip. "I'm just not sure how."

. . . . .

Tony sat at his desk, not even doing his paperwork. Ziva and Jamie were here, he didn't want to waste his time on paperwork.

"You didn't tell me you got in touch with Ziva," McGee said, staring at his computer as if he didn't care about the answer.

"Just happened," Tony replied, in the same uninterested manner.

"Must've slipped your mind, huh?" McGee asked, and Tony smiled.

"Something like that."

"How's Daniel?" McGee inquired, smirking as Tony scowled just as McGee knew he would.

"He's fine."

"That's good. I'm glad Ziva's happy," McGee said.

"Me too," he answered, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken.

_I only wish she were happy and with me. _

. . . . .

"Hi Tony,"

Tony turned, to see Jamie had appeared in front of him. The kid had ninja powers just like his mother.

"Hey, Jamie. Did you have fun with Abby?"

"Yeah. But I wanted to come see you. What are you doing?"

"Work. Very boring work," he whispered, drawing a finger to his lips to indicate it was a secret.

Jamie giggled.

"Where's your mom, anyway?" Tony asked, and Jamie pointed to Ziva, who was standing outside of MTAC with Gibbs.

"It's my birthday on Saturday," Jamie said proudly, while Tony's gaze focused on Ziva and Gibbs.

"Really?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Can you come to my party?" Jamie stared up at him with big, pleading eyes, and Tony laughed, wondering how anyone ever said no to this kid.

"Sure. If it's okay with your parents."

Jamie nodded furiously. "All my friends are coming,"

"Sounds fun."

Jamie nodded again. "Mommy says I can have a jumping castle,"

"Awesome," Tony smiled, as Ziva approached them, standing behind Jamie.

"Jamie, baby we have to go." She said, and Tony's eyes narrowed.

"What did Gibbs want?" He asked, concerned at her sudden departure.

"Gear up," Gibbs called, and Tony nodded, standing immediately, out of reflex.

"I'll see you later, Jamie," he said, hugging the child.

"Bye, Tony."

Jamie waved at the rest of the group, as Ziva gave and received hugs and kisses.

"You and Jamie seem close," Hayley commented, and Tony shrugged.

"He's a good kid."

"He looks just like Ziva," McGee added.

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

. . . . .

With the amount of questions Jamie had about their little visit, Ziva was beginning to wonder whether it had been worth it, taking him to see them all.

Ducky and Gibbs were the same; when she had spoken to them it was hard to imagine so much time had passed since she had last seen them. Gibbs had been the only one who she had really kept in touch with, although it only really consisted of a phone call now and then. But with Gibbs it didn't seem to matter. She could call him after six months of no communication at all, and he wouldn't even mention it; as if their lives hadn't changed considerably since they last spoke. He was the one person she could call who seemed to have all the answers, without judgement, and usually in very few words. It was something she had come to appreciate and depend on.

McGee had matured; he was stronger than he had been before. It was clear Tony was treating him more like an equal, which seemed to have a positive effect on him. Abby was different too, somehow. She was somehow a little less _Abby_. A shade less enthusiastic, a tad less overemotional.

She had changed too, she knew. Five years was a long time, and a lot had happened in that time. She was no longer an assassin, she was a mother. That was now the way she defined herself, and they were two very different identities.

"What does Tony do?" Jamie asked, looking up at her, as they slowly climbed the stairs to their apartment. His little legs could only go so fast, and he refused to be carried. _I'm not a baby anymore, mom_ he had reminded her.

"Do you mean like a job?" Ziva clarified and Jamie nodded as she unlocked the door.

"He's a special kind of policeman."

"A policeman?" Jamie asked in awe. "That's cool. I wanna be a policeman."

Ziva smiled. "You want to be a policeman because Tony's a policeman?" She asked, as she realised he had never wanted to be a lawyer because of his father.

"No. 'cause you get to catch bad guys. Does Tony catch bad guys?"

"Oh, yeah. Heaps of them," she smiled when Jamie's face lit up as he bounded inside the apartment.

"I invited Tony to my party," Jamie informed her casually.

_Of course you did_.

"You should have asked me first," Ziva reminded him, and the look in his eyes told her he knew that too.

"He said he could only come if it was okay with you." Jamie said, as the phone rang.

"Hey, Ziva."

She should have expected him to call. But it was still a surprise.

"Hi, Tony. I thought you were in the field."

"We were, we're on our way back now. I just wanted to talk to you about Jamie's birthday."

Ziva smiled, watching her son. Somehow, Tony had made his way into their lives, and it was almost as if he'd never left. She couldn't believe that only a week ago, they hadn't spoken in almost a year.

"If you're busy –"

"I'm not busy," he interrupted. "Is it okay that I come? Because if it's not, -"

"It's fine. Jamie wants you there. And I guess I wouldn't mind seeing you either," she laughed.

Tony laughed with her, glad they were getting back to the way things used to be. The teasing, the joking, the competition. McGee was driving, and his eyes were focused on the road, but Tony knew he was listening. Hayley was staring out the window and although he knew she was listening, she would never say anything.

"I guess I'll see you then," he said, as McGee's eyes flickered from the road for a millisecond.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later," she hung up, and Tony could feel McGee's eyes on him at the red light.

"Shut it, McGee," he warned, and McGee just smiled.

"Have you thought this through?" McGee asked softly, and Tony frowned.

"Thought what through?"

McGee shook his head. "There was a reason that you never saw Ziva after Jamie was born," he reminded Tony, who was regretting having had that particular conversation with McGee.

"_You coming to Ziva's on Saturday?" McGee asked, as they took the elevator to the parking lot. _

"_Nah, I can't make it," Tony said vaguely, brushing him off. Well, trying to._

"_Tony…" McGee sighed. "You need to stop avoiding her. You haven't seen her since James was born. I know things are different now, with James, and Daniel, but – "_

"_It's more complicated than that." Tony said shortly, as McGee hit the emergency stop switch, and the elevator jerked to a stop. _

"_You're her friend. She needs your support. Don't you even want to see James? He's almost six months old now – "_

"_I love her," Tony muttered, and McGee stopped. _

"_What?" _

"_I'm in love with her. So no, I am not going to spend Saturday afternoon with her and her perfect little family," he spat. "I'd rather do something less painful. Like get run over by a bus."_

_Tony flicked the switch, and the elevator began moving again. McGee opened his mouth to respond, but Tony stopped him. _

"_Don't say a word, probie."_

"That's not an issue anymore," Tony said, and McGee just laughed.

"Like hell it isn't."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. Okay, so please let me know whether you would prefer Daniel or Tony to be Jamie's father. I have it already planned out and have begun writing the next few chapters, however if there is an overwhelming preference one way and I have gone the other, I may change it. **

**2. Thank you all so much for your reviews, they motivated me to get this chapter done a few days early :)**


	6. Just Wrong Enough To Make It Feel Right

CHAPTER SIX – _"Just wrong enough to make it feel right,"_

It was Friday night, and Tony was preparing for another Friday night in with his DVD collection when there was a knock on the door. When he opened it to find Ziva standing there, with two cups of coffee in one hand and a pizza held against her hip, he grinned involuntarily.

"Daniel took Jamie to the movies, and although I thought I was looking forward to a night alone for once, I have to say I have become accustomed to having company," she explained, as she walked past him at the door and sat on his couch, looking at the DVD's spread out on the coffee table. "You're not busy?" She added, almost as an afterthought.

He loved that they were comfortable around each other now, that they were easing back into the relationship they used to have… Well at least the friendship they used to have.

He laughed. "Nah. You did save me from having to order a pizza, though," he smiled, and he couldn't help but think of the night he had spent tailing her, the night they had spent in the rain, eating pizza and drinking coffee. He wondered if that night had been on her mind too.

"I was craving some adult conversation… and then I thought I should probably ease myself into it. You're the only man-child I know, so…"

"Never thought the day would come when you could properly use a word like 'man-child' in a sentence," he laughed, sitting beside her on the couch. For once he didn't have to worry that he was sitting too close to her for Daniel's liking. They never really had boundaries when it came to personal space – it was something Daniel didn't seem to understand or appreciate. Well, Tony couldn't really blame him.

She smiled. "Things certainly have changed," she mused.

"Yep," he agreed.

"How's work been?"

"Alright. Caught a serial killer the FBI had been chasing for ten years. Can't say I didn't enjoy that, especially since Slacks was on the case," he grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

"Some things don't change," she amended.

"He tried to arrest me for murder. Can't let those kinds of things go," he chuckled.

They spent the evening talking, catching up without having to filter everything they said because Jamie or Daniel was there. Sitting beside each other; just talking, it almost felt as if their lives hadn't changed drastically in the last five years. And even if their lives had changed, it felt like _they_ could stay the same.

"I have missed this," she admitted, as they stood to throw away the pizza box, and place the dishes in the sink.

"Me too," he confessed quietly.

"You got Jamie's invitation," she noticed with a smile, touching the paper that was stuck on the fridge.

_Dear Tony _

_Please come to my birthday party. _

_Love Jamie. _

The words were in Jamie's writing and the letters were wobbly, and not written in a straight line, but it managed to put a smile on Tony's face every time he passed the fridge. The time and address had been scribbled at the bottom in Ziva's hand writing as an afterthought.

"Yeah, it came in the mail this morning," he grinned.

"He made me help him spell out those words exactly, he didn't even care if it didn't have the address or time," she laughed.

"They aren't _that_ important," he defended.

"Your son is going to be five tomorrow, Ziva," he stated, and she nodded with a frown, unsure of where he was going. "That scare you? Soon he'll be at school, and then high school, where I'm sure he'll get into all sorts of trouble that he'll make me promise not to tell you about," he teased with a smirk, as she glared at him.

"Thanks, for that, Tony; you know he's only five,"

"Time flies, Ziva," he reminded her as he turned to face her, and then paused.

He was far too close to her. That's all he could think. That he was far too close, because he could smell the way her shampoo and perfume mixed to create the scent he knew only as Ziva. All these years later, and it hadn't changed. He noticed that a curl had escaped her braid, and he couldn't help himself. He tucked it behind her ear, and smiled as she bit her lip when his fingers brushed against her face.

"I should go," she mumbled, and he nodded, although he couldn't seem to step away. She didn't move either, and before he could stop himself, their lips were almost touching, and it was even harder to pull away.

"Don't do this to me Tony," she begged; their lips millimetres apart, as her mind flooded with déjà vu; the last time they were in this position she had said almost the same thing, all the while knowing that it was futile. Neither one of them wanted to stop it.

At that, he pulled back, but she found herself closing the distance between them anyway.

When their lips met she closed her eyes, unable to think any more about anything other than how _right _it felt.

His hands were now on her hips, pulling her body closer to his, and she was no longer resisting. They broke away for a moment, and then reality came crashing back down on Ziva.

She put her hands on his shoulders, with less force than he expected. He was surprised that they just rested there, that she didn't push him away.

"Don't do this to me," she begged him again, only this time he made himself listen.

"Sorry," he murmured, pulling himself away from her, and putting all of his energy into walking towards the door. _She has a husband. She has a son. She doesn't want you_. He repeated the mantra, only to grin with the realisation that maybe last statement wasn't entirely true. _No_. _She has a husband. She has a son_. He repeated, forcing himself to keep walking away from her.

It was only once he was on the other side of the door that he realised that it was his apartment, and he was the one leaving. He couldn't help it, he knew that if he hadn't left he wouldn't have been able to stop himself, and he didn't want to put her in that position. He didn't want to be selfish. That's what he told himself, anyway, when he was walking away and all he really wanted to do was return to his apartment and continue that kiss. What had he done? What the hell was wrong with him? What was it about her that made every rational thought he ever had evaporate? The fact that Jamie's party was tomorrow seemed like a painful twist of fate. He had no idea how he was going to endure the afternoon with her and Daniel, pretending everything was fine. Pretending he didn't want to pull her into the nearest empty room and kiss her senseless. After all this time, he had thought it would go away. That he could handle being in her life without his mind going back to the nights they had spent together and cursing himself for ever walking away.

. . . . .

She left Tony's apartment confused and overwhelmed. That was _not_ how she had expected the night to end. Somehow when it came to Tony, she had absolutely no self-control. Which was why she was almost relieved when he stopped coming by after Jamie was born. Why she was glad they had only ever spoken on the phone, and never met in person to catch up until recently. Until she felt like all of the _feelings_ he seemed to stir in her whenever they were together should have been long gone. Until she thought that they should no longer be an issue. But apparently five years wasn't long enough when it came to Tony.

She ended up driving around for half an hour before finally going home, needing to get her thoughts straight before she could face her husband. She entered her apartment to find Daniel sitting on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table and nursing a beer, looking thoroughly exhausted.

"That kid is so hyperactive," he laughed, as she leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, just as she always did, hoping he didn't sense something different about her.

"Is he asleep?" She asked, motioning towards Jamie's room.

"Think so," Daniel answered, as she made her way down the hallway to Jamie's room, sticking her head in the door.

Jamie was curled up in bed on his side, fast asleep. She kissed the top of his head and smoothed his hair before leaving the room. She hated not saying goodnight to him, getting home to find he was already asleep. It rarely happened, which sent another wave of guilt through her, just as it was beginning to subside.

She returned to Daniel, sitting beside him on the couch. He pulled her body against his, so her head was resting on his shoulder and she let out the breath she was holding as she relaxed into his embrace.

"How was your night?" He asked softly, offering her the beer bottle.

"Okay," she sighed, taking a sip before giving it back to him. "Yours?"

"Tiring. I have no idea where Jamie gets all that energy from. We clearly feed him too much, I am exhausted."

She laughed. "Better get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll have a group of kids running around all filled with sugar."

"Do I have to go?" He asked with a smile, already knowing the answer, and she laughed again.

"Who else is going to chase them around and tire them out?" She teased.

"You?" He asked hopefully, and she just shook her head.

"Don't count on it."

"But if I'm entertaining the kids, who will talk to my mother?" He questioned, feigning innocence.

"Fine. You can be the one to entertain your mother," she surrendered, as if she was getting the short straw. She stood, holding her hands out to him.

"Are you coming to bed?" She asked, and he nodded, placing his hands in hers with a sigh.

It scared her, how easily she fell back into her routine with Daniel, when it was only an hour ago that Tony had made her forget his existence.

"I'm surprised Jamie wasn't too excited about tomorrow to sleep," she commented, as they passed his bedroom.

"Yeah, I tried to convince him that tomorrow would come sooner if he fell asleep. I'm not sure it actually worked, but then I read him that story that always makes him drift off."

She opened their bedroom door to find all of Jamie's presents for the next day neatly stacked beside the bed, wrapped perfectly, unlike when she had left, when they were still in shopping bags, ready to be wrapped when she got home.

"You didn't have to do that," she told Daniel, hugging him, as guilt surged through her relentlessly when she realised that while she had been kissing Tony, her husband had been doing her a favour.

"Yeah, well, you do enough," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She didn't know how it was that when she had spent the last five years of her life with this man, his touch still felt foreign, and Tony's didn't. That realisation didn't help the guilt.

. . . . .

He returned to his apartment a couple of hours later, after a few drinks at the local bar. He had been tempted to take home the woman there who had insinuated it was a possibility, but he knew that in the end he would only be disappointed because it wasn't the woman he wanted. Her eyes weren't dark enough, and her hair was far too short.

He had hoped that she would still be there; waiting for him, when he returned to his apartment, even though he knew it was ridiculous. She would be at home with her _husband _by now, and he hated himself even more for having kissed her, because now it hurt so much more to think of her with him.

He had purposefully avoided her after they had slept together all those years ago and she had made it clear she wanted to make things work with Daniel, because every time he saw her, all he wanted to do was convince her that she was making a mistake; that she was choosing _wrong_. But it seemed Jamie chose for her, or at least made it apparent to Tony that it wasn't his place to intervene. It wasn't his place to take that child away from its father. He had avoided eye contact with her for months, and he realised that now it was going to be even harder to act as if everything was fine around Daniel and Jamie, while refusing to look Ziva in the eye.

They had fallen back into old patterns, something he never thought he would regret until now.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**I was completely blown away by the reviews I received for the last chapter; I can't thank you enough. I'm truly flattered that so many people are reading and enjoying this story. I was struggling a little with writers block – I knew **_**what **_**was going to happen, I was just having trouble with actually writing it (weird, usually it's the other way around, at least for me) – and the response from you guys made me sit down and force myself to work through it, so THANKYOU. **

**Now that I'm on a bit of a roll with writing (which I'm sure you have realised after seeing this ridiculously long authors note) updates should be faster (I hope) :)**


	7. Is It Killing You Like It's Killing Me?

CHAPTER SEVEN – _"Is it killing you like it's killing me?"_

He woke with a headache, instantly regretting going out the night before. That wasn't the only thing he was regretting. But he forced himself out of bed, into the shower and into his car, as he reminded himself that this was for Jamie, who he couldn't even consider disappointing. Which was why he was at the _mall _of all places, on a Saturday morning, with a hangover. He had to buy wrapping paper, because he figured that old newspaper wasn't really going to cut it for a five year old's birthday present. He stuck his head into the toy store on the way out of the mall, and was thankful that he had already bought Jamie's present online. There were kids everywhere, and not quiet, well behaved ones. As he looked at the shelves, all filled with a multitude of toys, he knew he would never have chosen something that Jamie would actually like and that Ziva hadn't already bought for him. However he was sure that the small Wizards jersey that he had bought and was going home to wrap was something Ziva wouldn't have already given him, her knowledge of American sports still being severely lacking.

By the time he had gone home, wrapped the present, scribbled 'happy birthday Jamie, love Tony' on the wrapping because he forgot a card, and found his way to the address Ziva had written on the invitation, he was twenty minutes late.

Daniel answered the door, and they shook hands, exchanging greetings, as Tony surveyed the house. It was _huge_.

"Everyone's out back," Daniel said as he led Tony through the foyer, towards the sound of squealing and laughing children.

"Whose place is this?" Tony inquired.

"It's my parent's house. My mother offered so Jamie would have space for the jumping castle and the magician and everything," Daniel explained, as they approached the backyard.

There was a group of about fifteen kids running around the yard, in and out of the jumping castle.

"Hey, Tony," Ziva greeted him with a smile – an _unfaltering_ smile – and he wondered _how _she was acting as if nothing had happened between them the night before.

"Hey. This is for Jamie," he said, holding out the gift as an icebreaker. It was wrapped poorly, but he was fairly certain Jamie wouldn't mind.

"Jamie!" Ziva called, and a few seconds later Jamie emerged from the jumping castle, running towards his mother.

"Hi Tony!" He grinned, still out of breath.

"Hey, bud. Happy birthday," Tony said, mustering enthusiasm and handing Jamie the gift with a smile. He had ripped it open before Ziva could even tell him to wait to open all of the gifts together later.

"Awesome," he grinned even wider – Tony didn't even understand how it was possible – as he began to pull the jersey over his head. Ziva crouched, helping him pull it on, and straightening it over his T-shirt.

"It's a bit big, but you'll grow fast," Tony assured him, smiling.

"Thanks, Tony," Jamie hugged his leg tightly, before re-joining his friends.

"Would you like a drink, Tony?" Daniel asked, motioning towards the house. Tony nodded, and began to follow Daniel, happy to distance himself from Ziva.

"You a basketball fan?" Tony inquired, breaking the silence, and Daniel shook his head.

"Not really. Ziva told me you played at college?"

"Yeah. Ohio State."

Daniel nodded in response as he opened the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water.

"You and Jamie have fun last night?"

"Yeah," Daniel frowned. "We had a guy's night. How'd you know?"

Tony's stomach churned. He knew they were pretending _certain_ things hadn't happened, but he didn't realise that the visit was one of them.

"Ziva dropped by last night," he said, careful not to say more than necessary.

"Oh. She said she was going to see a friend, I just didn't realise it was you."

The awkward silence was making him wish he could return to the party and let the sounds of children laughing and squealing fill it in.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way…" Daniel began reluctantly, and Tony frowned, not liking the start of the conversation. He looked at Daniel. If it really came down to it, he could take him. He was sure of it. "It's just, all of a sudden, you're here, in our lives, all the time. Why is that?"

His tone wasn't threatening, simply questioning, and Tony wasn't sure that this was the better alternative. However it was reassuring to know that Daniel wasn't about to start getting angry about the events of last night.

"What do you mean why?" Tony asked, stalling. He didn't know why. He hadn't been prepared for _that_ question. "Ziva and I are friends," he said, although he wasn't sure that word appropriately described their relationship. He wasn't sure _any_ word could accurately describe their relationship. "We had just drifted apart."

"But why are you here now?" Daniel clarified, suddenly sounding frustrated. Tony was surprised. They had always been cordial – even if it had been completely faked for Ziva's sake.

Tony opened his mouth to respond but faltered, still unsure of what to say.

_I went undercover with Ziva's replacement a couple of weeks ago, only to realise it was much harder to pretend to be someone's husband when you actually have to pretend to feel something, so I thought I'd give Ziva a call to see if she had left you yet? _Yeah, that would go over well. He already felt like Daniel was about to start marking his territory.

"I guess I just missed her," he explained lamely. Daniel sure as hell didn't seem convinced.

"If you want me to leave you guys alone, I will," Tony offered softly. It sure hurt enough seeing Ziva with Daniel and Jamie, knowing she was happy with them and not him. It was like an addiction, he knew it would only hurt him in the long run, but in the short term he just could help but want to see her, to be a part of her life, even if he would end up alone at the end of the night, wishing for a greater role in her happiness.

Daniel looked shocked at his offer. He had clearly expected a confrontation, one ending in him telling Tony to leave his family alone.

Daniel shook his head. "No, Jamie and Ziva like having you around. It's just whenever I'm not there you seem to be."

Tony just shrugged. What was he going to say? _I just prefer to spend time with your wife and your son when you're not there? _

"What are you two talking about?" Ziva asked, making her presence known as she entered the kitchen. "The kids are going crazy out there."

"That's why we're in here," Daniel explained with a laugh, drawing his arms around Ziva's waist.

Tony wondered whether Daniel was always this affectionate and hands-y with Ziva, or whether this was solely for his benefit. Either way, it made his stomach churn.

"Well, stop hiding," she admonished with a smile. "I need someone to talk to your mother," she said, nudging Daniel.

He laughed. "Yeah, okay," he conceded, following her back out to the back yard. "Ziva and my mother…" Daniel trailed off. "Well, they don't exactly get along," he finished, and Ziva laughed.

"That's an understatement," she added, and Tony let out a nervous laugh.

_Because this party needs to be more awkward_.

When they returned to the backyard, Ziva went back into the kitchen to "check on the food," and Tony wondered whether she wasn't feeling as uncomfortable as he was after all. Tony joined Daniel and the few other parents who were there at the table.

"He's so much like her," Daniel smiled, as they watched Jamie with his friends. "I was so shy when I was his age, but he's so outgoing. I bet Zee was just like him."

Tony nodded politely. He couldn't imagine Ziva as a child. A few of the parents began discussing their own children, as Tony tried to shake the feeling growing in his gut as he watched Jamie.

He couldn't help but remember a conversation he had had with Ziva and McGee, years ago when she was still at NCIS. He had mentioned something about McGee and his sister and how dissimilar they were, and Ziva had been quick to defend McGee, saying that as kids, she and Tali could not have been more different. That as a child, Tali had been outgoing, while she herself had been shy. Tony had made some comment about how that the difference between McGee and Sarah was in appearances, not personality, and had ignored her comments almost completely.

He dismissed the conversation, persuading himself that clearly Jamie got his talkative personality from Tali, continuing to listen to the conversation around him, while keeping his eyes trained on Jamie.

Tony's smile faltered, and his head started to spin; the feeling in his stomach growing as he watched Jamie laugh with one of his friends.

That smile. It was the one feature of Jamie's that didn't resemble Ziva at all. But it didn't resemble Daniel, either. _He was being ridiculous. He was jealous. He needed to be realistic. _He tried to reason with himself. But he couldn't stop the thoughts forming in his head.

"_You're pregnant," he had stated in shock, as soon as Gibbs had disappeared. She had whipped around to look him in the eye, as a mixture of fear and anger started to boil inside of him. _

"_Is it mine?" He had asked. She had just stared at the ground. Passive Ziva was never a good sign. _

_He asked her again, this time the anger getting the best of him, in a vain attempt to draw out the Ziva he knew. The one he could handle. The one who not only wouldn't back down from an argument, but had no qualms about initiating one. But she remained unresponsive._

_He wasn't sure he could deal with her starting a family with Daniel. He wasn't ready to tell her that, so he just clung to the only hope he had left. _

"_No," she whispered the word, eliminating his last hope, and something inside him snapped. She and Daniel were going to have a child. He turned away, unable to look at her. What now? He couldn't tell her he loved her now, so he left. He walked away, and he could barely look her in the eye for months. _

But how did she _know_? How was she so sure?

He was glad he hadn't had breakfast, because he was sure that if he had, it would be making its way to his throat by now. He sipped the water Daniel gave him, in an attempt to calm down, and he tried not to stare at Jamie, which he knew would only fuel the thoughts running rampant in his head.

When Jamie came running towards them, begging Tony to try out the jumping castle, Tony forced himself to believe he was grasping at straws. That he was simply hoping for anything that would mean Daniel and Ziva weren't going to spend the rest of their lives together in blissful happiness. He pasted a smile on his face and spent half an hour chasing Jamie and his friends around the yard, before excusing himself.

He found Daniel speaking to his mother and the few other parents that were there, sitting at the table, which was set and ready for lunch. He scanned the yard for Ziva, who was standing a few feet away, by the jumping castle.

"They tire you out?" She asked with a smile, but he had run out of fake smiles. How was she always able to hide everything so well? She permanently wore this mask that hid her every emotion, and he was getting tired of not being able to see through it.

He ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip to prevent himself from lashing out in anger, when he clearly wasn't thinking straight. He didn't want to make a scene at Jamie's birthday.

"You know, I, uh, I think I'm gunna head off," he forced out slowly, trying to extract any emotion from the words.

"What?" She asked, confused. "You just got here; they haven't even eaten yet."

"Yeah, look, just tell Jamie and Daniel I said goodbye," he mumbled, backing away, and ignoring the way she was staring at him, completely confused.

. . . . .

She wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't show up, but she knew he wouldn't let down Jamie. She _had_ been surprised when he had arrived, and seemed no different than usual. Initially, there was no indication that he was at all uncomfortable, that he was even affected by what had happened the night before. He talked to Daniel, he played with Jamie, and then they got a moment alone without anyone else in earshot, and he left. He mumbled a lot, didn't even give a real reason, and then just left. She was close to going after him, before Jamie tugged at her shirt and asked if they could eat now.

Why did she let this happen?

. . . . .

Guilt plagued him as he drove home, remembering Jamie's smiling face looking up at him when he promised to come back and play with him again after he had taken a break.

But he couldn't face it. He couldn't help but stare at Jamie and wonder if she had lied to him, all those years ago. He couldn't look at Ziva without remembering just how good her lips felt against his. The time apart had helped dull those memories, the ones that had made it so hard for him to be her friend. But now he had ruined that.

He went into work, trying to complete the paperwork he had left over from the serial killer case. He needed _something _to put a stop to the thoughts running through his head. Something to distract him from the idea that Jamie could be his son. But when it hit him exactly what it would mean, if Jamie _were_ his son – that Ziva had kept his son from him all this time, that she had let _Daniel _raise him, just because they had been in a relationship at the time, he realised that either way, he couldn't see a favourable outcome.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. Okay, a bit morose, but we're getting there!**

**2. Sorry I haven't responded to your reviews, I have been busy trying to figure out the next few chapters – things start getting complicated (you'll see what I mean) and I'm finding it difficult to write. **

**3. As always, thanks for your feedback, it is always appreciated, I love hearing what you think :)**


	8. Everything Was Slipping Out Of Our Hands

CHAPTER EIGHT – _"Everything was slipping right out of our hands…"_

He was almost expecting the knock on the door, but that didn't mean he had a greater desire to answer it. They (he was almost positive it was Ziva) could come back later, he decided; staring at the TV screen and trying to pretend that the movie was taking his mind off the thoughts that seemed to have taken control of his brain. When the knocking ceased, he assumed whoever it was had given up. But seconds later his door swung open to reveal Ziva, who entered his apartment. He should have known that she wouldn't just give up.

"How did you get in?" He asked, and she just looked at him as if to say _"how do you think?"_

"Well, good to know your lock picking skills are still intact," he sighed, switching off the television when he saw a look in her eyes he knew only too well. It was the one that told him that she was ready for a fight.

"What is wrong with you?" She demanded, and he rolled his eyes.

"Right now, the fact that you can't lower your voice," he grumbled. He had been unable to switch off and just zone out all afternoon, and it had given him a headache.

"As soon as you left, all Jamie could ask was, '_Where's Tony_?' '_Why did Tony leave?_' _'When is Tony coming back?'_"

He averted his gaze as she spoke, guilt overcoming him. He had never meant to disappoint Jamie – he had wanted to avoid ruining his birthday.

When he returned his gaze to Ziva, the look on her face surpassed any other expression he had seen in terms of anger.

"I cannot do this now," he said, knowing he wouldn't be able to prevent himself from screaming at her, and that was _not_ the way he wanted to have this conversation.

"I do not care," she told him, her face contorting in anger.

"Fine," he spat, as she looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. He gave her a question instead.

"Could I be Jamie's father?" He asked point blank, and then watched the colour drain from her face – something she would have been able to hide five years ago. But she had let her guard down since then.

He didn't even know what to say. Her mask had fallen back into place, but he knew she knew he had seen the slip.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He screamed.

"You _knew _there was a chance," she accused, turning it back on him. "You just chose to assume otherwise, to pretend that it wasn't a very real possibility. That is not my fault."

He laughed; a condescending and sadistic laugh that made her cringe.

"You _told_ me that it wasn't a possibility. You told me that the baby wasn't mine. So I didn't mention it again. I tried to be a good friend, I supported you, I pretended that nothing between us ever happened, so it wouldn't make anything harder on you. I didn't want to add to the pressure you were under. I thought I was doing you a favour," he sneered.

How was it that one secret could change everything so entirely?

"You don't even know who his father is?" He asked, more of an accusation than a question.

She stared at him, the same man that had stood before her five years ago, asking the same question, in the same, rude, angry manner he had asked it the first time. She almost lied to him again, out of spite. She almost told him the same lie that broke his heart the first time.

"No," she admitted. Shame coursed through her, as she stared at the ground, wondering how it got to this.

When she finally looked up to face him, she wished she hadn't. All of his energy was going into trying to control his anger, which looked like it was on the verge of boiling over. His face was red, and he bit his lip in an effort not to scream. In the end, he gave into the only reasonable impulse he had, fleeing from the room. The door slammed shut, and she was left alone in his empty apartment, _again_.

She couldn't believe that Tony couldn't see that raising Jamie wasn't the same as babysitting him for a night. That it took more than bribing him with movies and pizza to be a father.

. . . . .

She stayed in his apartment, ignoring the time on his oven that seemed to be taunting her. 2.53, at last look. He wasn't coming home now. He had probably found some floozy at a bar and was at her apartment demonstrating exactly why she had never believed he wanted to be a father in the first place. She had always thought of him as more than just the stereotypical frat boy that never grew up. In the beginning she saw him as Tony, the man who paid for his own fathers parenting mistakes dearly. But ultimately he had seemed intent of proving her wrong.

When she first found out she was pregnant, she almost told him twice, that she was pregnant and he could be the father. But each time he had managed to show her that it was a bad idea. He seemed desperate to cling to his womanising persona, while Daniel had been discussing the future. He had told her that he loved her, and she couldn't bring herself to walk away from a stable relationship on the small chance that the baby was Tony's.

. . . . .

He drove around for almost an hour, before he ended up at McGee's apartment. He refused to go back to his own apartment, in case Ziva was there. He had far too many emotions clouding his judgment to be able to talk to her rationally about anything. McGee answered the door after the third round of knocking, with frustration plastered across his face.

"Tony what are you doing here?" He asked, the frustration becoming concern as he realised the time.

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony answered petulantly, as he made his way inside Tim's apartment.

"Then why are you here?"

. . . . .

She ended up falling asleep on his couch after seeing 4 AM come and go. By the time she had given up on him coming home it had seemed too late to return home herself. She woke hours later, and was mildly surprised to find that she had no missed calls or texts from Daniel. He was either too angry that she hadn't come home to be concerned, trusted her enough to discuss it when she did get home, or hadn't woken up yet. Considering that it was almost nine, and Jamie seemed incapable of sleeping past eight, coupled with the disagreement they had when she had informed him that she was going to speak to Tony, the first option seemed most likely.

The door opened slowly at five past nine, and she moved into a sitting position, as he entered tentatively. She didn't know whether his hesitance was because he hoped she had left or because he hoped she was still there. Truthfully, she knew it was probably the former, but didn't really want to admit it.

He didn't say anything, and she refused to be the first to speak. They had always been too stubborn for their own good.

He had known that she would still be there when he got home; she was never one to leave a fight unfinished. He would have preferred to spend the day in denial at McGee's, but McGee had a social life now and wouldn't let him bum around his apartment all day alone. Tony knew it had less to do with McGee's fear that he would break his typewriter, and more to do with forcing him to talk to Ziva, but he chose to pretend otherwise. It took him the drive home to realise that he had to face her eventually.

They spent a good minute and a half staring at each other in silence, each refusing to be the one who spoke first.

"I want to know," he finally stated, and she blinked, trying to pretend that she didn't know what he was referring to.

"I deserve to know if I have a son," he clarified, and she exhaled slowly before responding.

"I don't want to find out," she told him quietly.

Somehow he managed to look _more_ betrayed now, but she just stared back at him with the same steady expression.

"You don't want to know?" He repeated; disbelief apparent on his face.

"It does not change anything," she stated steadily, not allowing the anger in his eyes to affect her reaction.

"It changes everything!" He yelled, and she didn't flinch at his burst of anger, or the change in decibel level. She had been prepared for this. She wouldn't let him change her mind, when it would be Jamie who would suffer.

"Jamie has a father," she told him, and it was his turn to blink, unable to respond.

"Regardless of what it says in his DNA, Daniel will always be his father. You cannot change that," she spoke quietly, as if she could soften the blow.

He responded after a pause, quieter than she expected.

"You never gave me a chance to be his father," he choked out in a whisper as the realisation hit him, and she almost refuted his claim before recognising the pain in his eyes. Instead, she turned her gaze to the floor and waited for him to continue.

"I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive you for that," he murmured, and despite his hushed tone, her head snapped up to look him in the eye at his words.

The words tasted ugly in his mouth, and he couldn't quite believe he was saying them – that it had come to this. But then again, he couldn't quite believe any part of the situation.

"What was I supposed to do?" She asked him seriously; seeking an answer.

He hadn't considered the whole situation from her point of view.

"You should have told me the truth from the beginning. I would have understood," he told her automatically.

"That's not true," she shook her head, emphasising the point. She had given this situation a lot more thought than he had. "You didn't want to be a father, Tony," she paused, as the words sunk in. "And Daniel… I wanted my child to have a father. A good father. One that came to soccer games, or dance recitals. The kind of father I never had."

She was being honest, which he appreciated, but he couldn't help but feel that it was five years too late.

"You never even gave me a chance," he repeated. "Who were you to know if I wanted to be a father? _I _didn't know if I wanted to be a father. But I would have been there. Even if I wasn't perfect, even if it took a while to get used to the idea of being a dad, I would have been there," he told her, and his heart broke as he realised that he _hadn't_ been there. That if Jamie was his son, she had taken that from him. First steps, first words, first everything. It was just another reason why when he now looked at Ziva, he no longer saw the Ziva that he had loved for far longer than he would ever admit, but he saw the woman who had potentially kept him from his son.

"We have survived a lot, Ziva," he began, as memories flashed before his eyes. "But I'm not sure we can survive this," he told her, trying to eliminate the anger from his words, but somehow they still ended up laced with spite.

At that, she stood, realising that there was nothing more she could say, and opened the door, leaving him alone as the memories overwhelmed him.

_Him, lying on the floor, beside her dead boyfriend, her, entering, and then pointing her gun at him. _

_Her, pinning him to the ground, her tiny weight trapping him, with a gun to his chest and a score to settle. _

_Him, spending months with nothing but guilt consuming him, and seeking vengeance._

_Her, appearing in front of him like a mirage, only far too broken._

_Him, staring at her with the realisation that she was pregnant, with another man's child. _

_Her, announcing nonchalantly that she was getting married, as if she wasn't breaking his heart._

_Him, watching as she cradled the baby in her arms, as her new husband whispered in her ear. _

. . . . .

She sat in her car for almost an hour before ascending the stairs of her apartment. She knew she would be walking straight into another fight, and she needed time to work up to it.

She opened the door to find eerie silence, and Daniel in their bedroom.

"Where's Jamie?" She asked with a frown, and he just shook his head.

"He had that play-date with Mark," he told her. "You forgot, didn't you?" he accused, and she sighed, the guilt she felt only magnified by the look in his eyes.

She never forgot anything when it came to Jamie. She had never forgotten where he was supposed to be a second of his life. He always came first.

"Did you sleep with him?" Daniel asked; the question void of anger, her mind still reeling from the rapid change in conversation.

"No." she told him simply, and he held her gaze for a beat before nodding.

"I have to head into the office for a few hours. Can you pick Jamie up at three?" He asked, and all she could do was nod dumbly in response.

Did he have that much faith in her, in her one word answer, without any further explanation? Or did he just not care?

. . . . .

He spent the week in a haze, operating on auto-pilot; and it was far too similar to the summer he had spent when she had been in Somalia. McGee knew better than to mention anything. He had asked how the discussion with Ziva had gone Monday morning and had been met with a look that told him all he needed to know. Hayley was too polite; too determined to not make any waves to comment on his behaviour, regardless of how bizarre it was.

It was Gibbs that pulled him aside, on day four of his Ziva-induced funk, after a record number of head slaps.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs stated, almost a warning, and Tony just stared back at him; waiting for the inevitable.

"Get it together," he ordered, and Tony opened his mouth to respond.

Gibbs, however, cut him off.

"Straighten things out with Ziva," he said, and Tony's eyes narrowed, as if it would give him some sort of indication of how much Gibbs knew about the situation.

Gibbs just left him standing beside the stairs, stunned, and returned to work mode.

The next thing Tony knew, Hayley had appeared in front of him.

"We're in the field," she told him, and he nodded, shaking his head in an effort to clear it, following her to the elevator.

"Are you okay? You haven't been acting like yourself." She asked him quietly, when they stepped into the elevator alone.

He nodded, staring at the closed elevator doors.

"I'm fine," he told her evenly.

She left it at that, and they spent the rest of the elevator ride in silence.

. . . . .

He stood in the elevator the next morning alone, descending towards Abby's lab. The guilt consumed him, but he still tried to ignore it. He told himself that he just wanted to _know_. That he wouldn't do anything about it. He wouldn't demand anything, or change the situation. But he needed to know.

"Hey Abby," Tony smiled, and she turned around with a frown.

"I don't have a match yet," she told him, her frown becoming a smile as Tony handed her the Caf-POW in his hand.

"This isn't about the case," he said, clearing his throat. "I need a favour," he told her with a hopeful smile.

Her eyes narrowed, as he placed two evidence bags on the table.

"What's this?" She asked, and he sighed.

"This is a toothbrush," he told her as he lifted Jamie's small bright red toothbrush. "And this is a DNA sample."

He had been washing his hands that morning when he had noticed it. Jamie had been in such a rush to get home the morning after he had stayed the night that he had left his toothbrush behind. Tony never even noticed – it had blended in seamlessly in his bathroom.

"And what would you like me to do with them?" Abby asked, although Tony thought it was pretty clear.

"I want to know if this person," he began, holding the toothbrush in one hand, "and this person," he lifted his saliva swab, "are related."

"Who are these people?"

She was enjoying this. That much was obvious. Her grin was mischievous, and there was a familiar glint in her eyes that had become far too rare. It had disappeared around the time she realised that McGee's new girlfriend wasn't crazy, or trying to kill him, or steal from him, or generally use him in one way or another, like the majority of his previous relationships. About the time she realised that they were actually in a serious relationship.

"I'll tell you if they match," he promised, as he returned to the elevator, trying to shake the feeling that he was changing their lives irreversibly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. Okay, I'm a bit nervous about this chapter, because this is where things begin to change. So please let me know what you think. **

**2. YAY for **_**pbfn242751**_** who go the last chapter title :)**

**3. Last chapter this story reached 100 reviews, which is AMAZING, thank you all so much! **

**4. Also, I must warn you. University is insane for me for the next few weeks, with assignments and exams so I won't be able to update as frequently as I would like to. I'll try my best to make sure updates aren't more than a week apart though. **


	9. So Many Walls Up I Cant Break Through

CHAPTER NINE – _"So many walls up I can't break through"_

He didn't take Gibbs' advice. Which, if previous experience was any indication, was a bad idea. Instead, he just got better at going through the motions. Well, at least he thought he did, until they finally wrapped the case early Friday afternoon, and Gibbs shot him a glare that was almost as bad as a head slap. He told them to leave early; that they could finish the paperwork on Monday. Tony knew that Gibbs was eliminating any reason he had to avoid Ziva. He could no longer say he was too busy with work – he had been given the whole afternoon off.

Hayley was heading for the elevator before Gibbs could change his mind, or they got another case. McGee soon followed, and although Tony was actually contemplating staying back and finishing his paperwork, he knew he had no choice. Gibbs was looking him in the eye, almost daring him to disobey an order he wouldn't have had to even consider defying in the past.

"I won't have another week like this one," Gibbs warned, before sitting at his desk, and ignoring Tony's presence in the bullpen, as if he had already left.

He took his time packing up his desk, despite a few wary glances from Gibbs.

"Have you spoken to her?" Tony asked quietly, unable to ignore his curiosity, trying to gauge exactly what Gibbs knew.

"I spoke to her on Tuesday," Gibbs answered evenly.

"What did she tell you?"

Gibbs sighed. "She told me that Jamie missed his best friend Tony."

Tony's head dropped. He knew that Jamie would be wondering where he was; why he had disappeared so quickly from the party and hadn't returned since.

"I'll see you Monday, boss," Tony said absently, making his way to the elevator.

As he replayed his fight with Ziva for the hundredth time in the last eight hours alone, he began to understand where she was coming from. He was still angry, but he could see why she hadn't believed that he had wanted to be a father. He had done nothing to prove to her that he was looking for anything long term back then. In fact, he had gone out of his way to push her away, back into Daniel's arms, as soon as she had told him she was pregnant.

He had stuck his head in the sand and let himself believe that Daniel was the father, while knowing that there was a possibility that she could had lied.

He was doing the same thing now. He was avoiding her, avoiding the possibility of a commitment, and he was letting Jamie down in the process.

. . . . .

He didn't even know if they would be there, but he drove to their apartment anyway. It occurred to him that maybe he should let them be; that he should acknowledge that Ziva had made the right decision five years ago and leave it at that.

But he couldn't just pretend that the last two weeks hadn't happened. He couldn't just go back to the way things were; he wanted to be in Jamie's life. He wanted to _know _him. He wanted to know him as a child, as a teenager, as an adult. In the back of his mind he thought it was probably selfish, but he kept driving.

When he arrived at their apartment, he paused before knocking. He didn't know what Ziva would think of his presence, especially after having not heard from him in almost a week; but he dismissed that concern and knocked anyway. He wasn't there to see Ziva.

When she opened the door, he couldn't help but think she looked run down. She didn't speak when she realised who it was, she simply looked at him expectantly, and waited for him to say something.

"Hi." He started, letting out a nervous breath. "Is Jamie here?" He asked, and for a split second he thought he saw a crack in her mask of indifference, and disappointment pass across her face. But he blinked and it was gone, and she just nodded, opening the door.

"Jamie!" She called, and Jamie came padding down the hallway from his room.

His face lit up as he saw Tony, and he increased his speed.

"Hi," he smiled enthusiastically; stopping in front of Tony, and Tony couldn't prevent a smile spreading across his own face.

"Hey, bud," Tony greeted.

"I missed you."

Tony nodded, looking at Ziva, whose face was empty; void of any emotion, and that almost made him feel guiltier.

"I missed you too," he admitted. "But I'm free from now until Monday, so we can hang out whenever you want," he promised. "If it's okay with your mom," he added, and Jamie's smile widened.

"Can he come to the park with us, mommy?" Jamie asked Ziva, his eyes looking up at hers hopefully.

Ziva sighed, recognising the anger in Tony's eyes whenever he took his eyes off Jamie.

"Look why don't you take him to the park?" Ziva offered. She couldn't survive a whole afternoon with Tony, pretending everything was fine.

"You're not going to come?" Jamie asked Ziva, and she shook her head. Tony was there to spend time with Jamie; he didn't want to see _her_ – that much was clear.

"Is it okay if Tony takes you, baby?" Ziva asked Jamie, and confusion crossed Jamie's face.

"You're not coming?" He repeated.

"No, baby, Tony's going to go with you, okay? And then when you come home we'll have dinner, and watch a movie, does that sound good?" She asked, pasting a smile across her face for Jamie. He nodded, and she stood after giving him a hug and a kiss goodbye.

"Can you be back by five?" Ziva asked Tony, her face blank again.

"Sure," Tony nodded. "Thanks for this, Ziva," he told her sincerely.

Ziva took Jamie's coat and helped him put it on, before closing the door behind them without another word.

. . . . .

They walked to the park, and Tony couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would be like, if they were to find out that Jamie was his son. Her, dropping Jamie off every other weekend, him bringing him back Sunday night. He never thought it would be like that with Ziva. But now when he looked at her, all he could see were the lies she told. He could barely look her in the eye, let alone contemplate raising a child with her. Although that all seemed irrelevant, considering she had no intention of changing anything; of finding out Jamie's paternity, of talking to Daniel about it. She was perfectly content with the whole situation as it was, apparently.

"I'm sorry I left your party early, Jamie," Tony apologised, as they made their way to the park.

"That's okay; mommy said you had to go catch bad guys," Jamie said, sprinting towards the swings.

Tony smiled at the way Jamie had described his job so simply, before catching up with him.

Jamie seemed to have a fixation on the swings, so Tony spent what felt like close to an hour just pushing him back and forth. He found it to be oddly relaxing, but by the time Jamie announced that he was tired, Tony was exhausted, and he was thankful that it was only a short walk back to Ziva's. Jamie stopped him along the way, watching a group of teenagers playing basketball across the road.

"Can you do that?" Jamie asked, as one of the guys dunked the ball.

"I used to be able to," Tony said with a smile.

"Can you show me how?"

"You might have to grow a bit before you can dunk," Tony said, ruffling Jamie's hair affectionately. "But I can show you how to shoot," he offered, and Jamie just smiled.

"Okay," he agreed, as they continued walking.

Spending the afternoon with Jamie had managed to put a smile on Tony's face that he felt would take days to wipe off. Turns out it only took a few seconds.

Jamie knocked on the door enthusiastically, and after a few minutes, the door opened slowly. All Tony could think was that if there hadn't been that steely determination in her eyes that was distinctly _Ziva_, he wouldn't have believed it was her. Her hair was a mess, and not in the post-sex way he had seen it when he had dropped Jamie home the last time. Her makeup was smudged, and there were tear tracks down her face, with more tears in her eyes threatening to spill over the edge.

"Did you have fun?" She asked Jamie, her voice steady. If Tony had closed his eyes, he wouldn't have thought anything was wrong.

"Yeah," Jamie's smile wavered upon seeing her face.

"Thanks, Tony," she mumbled, taking Jamie's hand and guiding him inside the apartment, before starting to close the door.

"Hey," Tony stopped her, holding the door open. Years ago she would have just continued slamming it in his face.

"What's wrong?" He couldn't help it. He was angry with her, but that didn't give anyone the right to upset her.

"I'm fine, Tony," she said, not even bothering to wipe the tears off her face. She picked up Jamie, before moving to close the door again.

"You're sad," Jamie stated, patting the tears on her cheeks, without really wiping them away.

"I missed you," she smiled brightly at Jamie despite the tears in her eyes, kissing his cheek. Jamie smiled back, blowing a raspberry her cheek in return, which made her laugh in surprise.

Tony couldn't help but smile at the sound, but he wouldn't leave it at that.

"Can I come in?" He asked, and Ziva shook her head, her hand still on the door.

"I'll talk to you later, Tony," she said half-heartedly, and he knew she had no intention of calling.

"Can't Tony stay for dinner?" Jamie pled, and a smug smile spread across Tony's face. He knew she couldn't refuse her son. She nodded reluctantly, and Jamie raced into his room to gather his birthday presents to show Tony, but Tony barely registered the movement, his eyes fixed on Ziva.

"Did you tell Daniel about…" He struggled to finish the sentence. "About Jamie?" He asked, and she snorted.

"No. Will you leave now?"

"No," he answered back, just as quickly.

"Why do you care?" She asked sharply, and that blow hurt. "You've made it perfectly clear that you hate me, that I betrayed you and that we can't be friends again. Why do you care so much now?" She asked spitefully.

"I still care about you, Ziva," he said, and he realised that he wasn't lying. It still hurt, but he didn't _hate _her. "This just hurts. That you let me live five years thinking that Daniel was the father of your son, when it could be me." He spoke softly, in case Jamie returned.

"Maybe we should find out," she said absently, and he just stared at her.

"Why the sudden change?" He asked, suspicious. "A week ago you told me it wouldn't make a difference."

"Do you want to know, or not?" She snapped, ignoring his question.

He just nodded slowly.

"Fine. Will you go _now_?" She demanded, and he sighed.

"I'm just going to say goodbye to Jamie," he said, pointing towards Jamie's room, and she nodded.

Jamie was lying across his bed, clearly having been distracted by the various toys scattered around the room.

"Sorry, bud, I can't stay for dinner," Tony said, and Jamie looked up, frowning. "But I'll see you soon," he promised.

"Okay." Jamie agreed, standing to follow Tony out of his room. Tony stopped when they entered the living room, and found Daniel standing in front of the closed door, staring at Ziva. She was staring right back, her mouth set in a straight line and tears flashing in her eyes.

"C'mon Jamie, I didn't get to see your presents," Tony said, putting a hand on Jamie's shoulder and guiding him back to his room.

. . . . .

She was thankful that Tony had enough sense to leave the room with Jamie. She always avoided arguing with _anyone_ in Jamie's presence, especially Daniel, but this fight was unavoidable.

"How long has this been going on, Daniel?" She asked softly, embarrassed that tears were still in her eyes, that she no longer had complete control of her emotions.

"Three years," he responded quietly, and she took a deep breath, trying to fight every impulse she had. To hit him, to cry, to leave.

She shook her head instead. "I do not understand."

"Yes you do. We both know the only reason we're still together is Jamie."

Even after all of this, he still managed to sound sincere.

"That's not true. I love you," she said, but even to her own ears, the words were lacking in conviction.

"But you didn't. Not in the beginning. We both wanted Jamie to have two parents, and a normal family life. And he has that. So are we going to keep pretending?" He asked, and a chill was sent through her body at his words.

He seemed to sense it, because his face softened, and he approached her slowly.

"You love me like a best friend. Not like you should love a husband," he explained, and if anger and mortification hadn't been overwhelming her, she would have admitted that he had a point. When they got married she _liked_ him. She thought that she _could_ love him, given the opportunity. But he didn't make her pulse race. He had been the safe choice; the dependable one.

"What do you want to do?" He asked, his tone still kind, which somehow made the situation worse. She couldn't find the words, – any words, let alone words to actually answer his question – so he answered for her.

"Let me know when you figure it out."

He walked through the door, and she didn't even want to think about where he was going.

Was it worth it? Had she really deluded herself into loving him?

When he heard the door slam, Tony emerged from Jamie's bedroom, moving toward Ziva and taking her into his arms without a word. She gave in, letting his arms envelope her. She buried her head in his shoulder, ignoring every voice in her head that was telling her that this was wrong, simply because it felt so right.

"What happened, Ziva?" he asked softly, and she ignored him.

"C'mon," he urged gently, lifting her chin so she would look him in the eye.

"I do not want to talk about it," she insisted, and when she realised that he wouldn't let it go, she left him standing in her living room, making her way to Jamie's room.

"Are you okay mommy?" Jamie asked, and she just smiled at his voice, at the innocence of it.

She climbed onto his bed, pulling him into her lap for a hug.

"I'm better now," she smiled.

"Where's daddy gone?" He asked, and she exhaled slowly.

"Daddy's working, baby. But he'll be home tomorrow."

"Daddy's always working," he said. It wasn't a complaint, just a simple statement.

"I know," she sighed, holding him tighter. "But I'm here. I'll always be here,"

She hugged her son for a while, not knowing how much time had passed.

"Something smells yummy," Jamie observed, sitting up. She followed him into the kitchen, where Tony stood over the stove.

"Hey bud," he greeted Jamie with a smile, as Jamie approached him quickly. "You like pasta?"

"Yeah," Jamie grinned, and Tony held up a finger, indicating that he wait there. He took a chair from the kitchen table, and moved it so it was placed beside the bench, lifting Jamie onto it. The small child now towered over the bench, and Tony showed him how to serve the spaghetti. Jamie took the server, bitting his lip in concentration, much like Ziva did, as he began serving the spaghetti into bowls.

"We gunna eat that much, huh?" Tony asked with a laugh, looking at the mountain of spaghetti Jamie had served out in each bowl. Jamie just nodded indignantly and continued the task.

Ziva let out a laugh, as she watched them interacting so easily. She couldn't stop herself from wondering if it was because they were father and son, or because to Jamie Tony was a friend, not a parent.

She set the table thinking that this is what her life could have looked like, had she given Tony a chance.

She shook her head firmly, trying to dislodge the thought. Jamie was five. She couldn't change the fact that Daniel was his father, and would be for the rest of his life. There was no changing that now.

They ate quietly; mostly just Jamie conversing with Tony, Ziva contributing a few mumbled words here and there. When it was Jamie's bed time they both followed him into his room, saying goodnight.

Suddenly they were alone again, and Ziva almost made him leave. But he deserved more than that. She was the one who had hurt him, and he was still there, making sure she was okay.

It occurred to her that maybe if she had simply been honest from the beginning, if she had found out Jamie's paternity as soon as she could, that she wouldn't be in this situation. That she wouldn't feel as if her whole world was crumbling down around her. That she wouldn't be so unsure of every decision she made.

Every choice that she had made now felt as if it was the wrong one.

"What happened, Ziva?" Tony asked again, interrupting her thoughts, his voice filled with concern.

She couldn't lie, not this time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. Okay, I'm really sorry for not responding to your wonderful reviews, but this week has been so crazy I barely had time to get this chapter done. I really appreciate them :)**


	10. Never Simple, Never Easy

CHAPTER TEN – _"Never simple, never easy"_

"What happened, Ziva?" He asked, concern clear in his voice, despite his attempt to conceal it.

She hadn't been acting like the Ziva he knew all day. The Ziva he knew didn't cry. She didn't show emotion, because it made her feel vulnerable.

But Ziva was different now. He still wasn't used to the new Ziva.

"I wanted to surprise him…" she began, and with those five words he already knew how this story would end.

_Daniel had left that morning, warning her that he would be working late. There was nothing unusual about it. But when her afternoon became unexpectedly empty, she had wanted to see him, maybe grab a coffee. After the last week, she had wanted to make sure they were okay. She had pulled up outside his office only to see him leaving, and promptly followed him. She had assumed that he had finished early, and was coming home to surprise her. Her heart dropped the moment he turned left, instead of right, missing the right turn that would have brought him home, to her. She almost stopped following him; turned around and went home, thinking he was seeing a client. But something made her continue. Jamie was with Tony, after all. He was having fun. She had nowhere to be, which was a rare occurrence. It almost felt like trailing a suspect, except this wasn't a suspect, this was her husband, her husband who had done nothing to make her doubt him. _

_Until he pulled up at the motel. Five years ago she would have known exactly what to expect when following him into the lobby of the upmarket hotel. But now she was unsure; she wanted to believe the best, that he was meeting a client. She had drummed it in to her head with such determination that she almost believed it._

_But that ideal was taken away swiftly when he didn't greet the tall blonde woman with a handshake. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her close, kissing her more tenderly than he had ever kissed Ziva. Right in the middle of a hotel lobby, as if he didn't even care if he got caught. She tried to leave, but her feet seemed glued to the floor. He looked up and saw her, unable to move, unable to speak. When he advanced toward her, she couldn't help it, it was almost instinct. Instinct that she had buried for the last five years, but instinct none the less. She took his finger and twisted it, reducing him to a mess on the floor, and didn't even say a word before turning on her heel and leaving. _

"I cannot believe that I didn't figure it out sooner," she sighed, shaking her head and avoiding Tony's gaze. How was it that she was so blind when it came to relationships?

"This wasn't just a one-time thing?" Tony asked, remembering the kiss they had shared.

"No. It has been going on for three years," she replied, and Tony's eyes widened.

It was such a cliché, using the "working late" excuse to cover an affair. He couldn't believe that it had been going on for so long, and that Ziva hadn't known. The old Ziva would have known just by looking him in the eye. She always used to know when men were lying. But this Ziva had spent the last five years focused on Jamie, and nothing else. That much was obvious. She hadn't spent the time focused on her marriage, looking for cracks or lies; she had spent it raising her son, and in the process she had let her guard down.

Tony wondered whether she was upset at Daniel for cheating, or upset at herself for not realising it sooner.

"I'm sorry, Ziva," Tony told her sincerely, taking her hand in his.

"I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I lied, that I told you I knew Daniel was Jamie's father when I didn't. I'm sorry I thought he would be a better father than you."

"He's still a good father," he reminded her softly, and she laughed sarcastically.

"When he's here."

He didn't know how to respond to that – he had realised that he clearly didn't know as much about their relationship as he thought he did.

"Would you have ever told me that there was a possibility that I was Jamie's father, if I hadn't asked?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, trying not to let it show how much the answer meant to him.

"No," she responded honestly. "But only because I don't want Jamie to be affected by all of this. He doesn't deserve it."

Tony just nodded. "I guess I can understand that," he admitted. Without anger tainting his thoughts, he could see the motivations behind each of her actions. It didn't mean he _agreed _with them, but he could see why she had done what she had done.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted back then," he blurted out and she just frowned in confusion.

"After we slept together, when I found out you were pregnant… Pretty much that whole year," he sighed. "I was so afraid that you would choose him, that I ended up making the decision easy for you."

"It's okay, Tony," she told him, but he just continued.

"I'm sorry that I treated you like some one night stand."

"It's okay," she repeated, this time placing a hand on his arm in an effort to prevent him from giving an unnecessary explanation.

"No it's not," he argued softly. Somehow he had gone from angry at her to angry at himself. "Do you even remember what happened?"

She laughed. "Of course I remember," she said, as if it was ridiculous to think that she had forgotten, when she was acting as if it were no big deal.

_She woke as soon as she sensed movement, opening her eyes to see Tony standing beside her bed, dressing slowly, with his back to her. _

"_You are stealing my move," She teased lightly, remembering the last time this had happened – the first time this had happened – when she had slipped out of his apartment before he could wake up. _

_A nervous smile was present on his face when he turned around to face her. She lay on her stomach, her hair fanned out across the pillow, the sheet resting across her waist. _

_He knew as soon as he looked her in the eye he wouldn't be able to just leave. She almost seemed vulnerable, as if he could see into her soul if he tried hard enough, and he swore he had never seen her look more beautiful. _

"_Sorry," he apologised, a goofy grin spreading across his face, still nervous. _

_But then her phone flashed on the nightstand, and he moved to hand it to her instinctually, unable to stop himself from seeing who the message was from. _Daniel_. Reality had invaded his imaginary world – the one where Ziva _wasn't _cheating on her boyfriend with him. _

_She noticed the look in his eyes immediately, and felt guilty for having put him in this position. _

"_Sorry," she apologised, and he just shrugged, buttoning his shirt. _

"_It's fine," he said, his voice now cold, his nerves having disappeared. "I'll see you at work," he told her, before turning and leaving without a second glance. _

_He couldn't help himself. He teased her as he always did at work, although a little harsher than usual. McGee had even commented on it, but she had just taken it, remaining quiet as if she felt she deserved it. They wrapped the case that afternoon, and the metro cop who had been working with them on the case and simultaneously flirting with him all week was leaving. He had ignored her advances until that day. After his reality-check that morning, he made a point of flirting with her throughout the day, at least when Ziva was present. He walked with her out of the bullpen, kissing her soundly before guiding her into the elevator. He knew Ziva had seen – he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't thought she was watching – but he just strode into the bullpen, taking a seat at his desk as if nothing had happened. It was empty now, except for Ziva and himself, and when he finally looked across the bullpen to meet her gaze, he hadn't expected to see the hurt flashing so clearly in her eyes. She always hid her emotions. It almost made him feel guilty, but then he remembered that she would be going home to Daniel that night, and the guilt faded, only to be replaced with jealousy. _

"Knowing that you were going to just go back to Daniel, I felt so embarrassed about telling you that I loved you," he said softly, his face having reddened with the memory. She just laughed in response, and he looked up in confusion.

"Would it make you feel better if you knew that I hadn't believed you when you said it?" She asked, while he was still wondering why this was so funny.

"You didn't believe me?" He asked incredulously, and she shrugged.

"I figured you just said it in the moment, I didn't think you really meant it, that you would still mean it in the morning," she shrugged, and he rolled his eyes. All the time he had spent agonising over it slipping out and she hadn't _believed_ him.

"I meant it," he said, paraphrasing the many other less kind statements he could have said – the ones with insults like _you're an idiot _preceding.

"I still do," he admitted, and her eyes narrowed, and he knew she didn't believe him this time either. "I do," he repeated. "Even when I hate you I love you," he told her, and she smiled.

"That's really nice, Tony," she said sarcastically, and if anything, he was thankful that she was smiling again.

With him, even when he was being sincere, it was guarded. Maybe that was why she had trouble believing him.

"Jamie and I had fun today," he started, knowing Jamie would keep the smile on her face.

"I bet he spent the whole afternoon on the swings," she smiled knowingly, and he nodded.

"Yep. Gave my arms a good workout."

The smile died on her face, though and he couldn't help but wonder why.

"He could be Daniel's son," she reminded him, and he just shot her a confused look. "You're getting attached to the idea that he's yours," she explained, and he knew she was right. He had spent the last week thinking about what would happen if Jamie were his son – he hadn't even contemplated what would happen if he were Daniel's.

"I'll still love him," he told her without hesitation. "I loved him before I thought he could be my son."

"Maybe we should find out," she said half-heartedly, although she wasn't sure she could face the truth. If Jamie was Daniel's son, Tony would be heartbroken, regardless of what he was telling himself, and she would be left to decide whether she should try to figure out some sort of custody arrangement with Daniel, or go back to pretending that they were one big happy family. And if he was Tony's… She still had to deal with Daniel. Jamie knew him as his father. She couldn't change that. It made no difference. Whether it was Daniel or Tony, she had chosen Daniel, and that affected everything. Tony couldn't be Jamie's father, he already had one. What would she tell Daniel? How would he react?

"I, actually, already sent samples to Abby," Tony confessed slowly, guiltily.

"You what?" She asked in disbelief. She couldn't stop herself from panicking. "I can't do this, Tony. I can't know,"

"Sure you can," he told her. He hadn't expected her to stress out about it. To be honest, he hadn't really thought about her reaction, other than her initial reservations about finding out the truth.

"You don't understand. It doesn't make a difference. Jamie knows Daniel as his father. You can't change that. You can't do that to him."

"I have to know, Ziva."

"Why? Because if he isn't yours you don't want him? He's just a kid, Tony. He loves you. You can't just leave, it'll break his heart."

"I wouldn't just leave. I just… Don't you think I deserve to know? If I have a son?"

"You can't tell him, Tony," she stated, and he turned to her, anger flooding his eyes.

"Can't tell who? Jamie or Daniel?" He asked, and she just stared back at him, refusing to give him an answer.

"You can't just go back to the way things were with Daniel; you can't just pretend you don't know that he's cheating on you!"

He was yelling now, and her empty stare turned into a glare.

"Stop screaming. You will wake Jamie," she told him steadily.

It was if they had flipped a switch. He was back to being angry at her, and all she wanted to do was flip it back.

Their silence was eventually interrupted by his phone, and he looked down at the caller ID.

"It's Abby," he said, his heart suddenly beating at double the pace it was before. "I told her to call me when she got the results."

"Don't answer it Tony. I don't want to know," she told him resolutely, staring at him with a look that he was sure the old Ziva would have been proud of.

He answered it anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**1. I apologise for the cliff hanger, I'll update ASAP! ( Reviews **_**are**_** motivating :P )**

**2. To **_**Special Agent Tee-vah**_**, who got last chapter's title :D **

**3. Bit of a short chapter, but the next one is in the works, and is shaping up to be very long and quite dramatic.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Should Have Read The Writing On The Wall

CHAPTER ELEVEN – _"Should have read the writing on the wall"_

As soon as he answered the phone, he knew it was a mistake. Ziva was watching him closely, despite her protests, she seemed unable to supress her curiosity. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his reaction for long, and this phone call would change everything.

When he hung up, he was unable to comprehend much more than what Abby had told him.

Ziva was still watching him carefully, surprised that she was unable to decipher his expression.

It didn't seem as though he was going to tell her what the results were, and after a few minutes, she couldn't help herself.

"You have to tell me now."

"I thought you didn't want to know," he shot back.

"Well, now that you know, you might as well tell me. It will be clear soon enough,"

"Fine," he conceded. He knew she was right, as soon as he saw Jamie his poker face would fall to pieces. He cleared his throat, watching her closely, waiting to gauge her reaction.

"He's my son."

She bit her lip, nodding. All of those moments in the past that had made her doubt that Daniel was Jamie's father were coming to the surface, impossible to repress. The way Jamie seemed to have a hard-wired interest in basketball, despite Daniel's lack of interest in it. The way he smiled – an animated grin that she had never seen on anyone except Tony.

She sighed softly. She had made the wrong decision. Everything seemed to be telling her that. She had denied Tony his right as a parent to know his son. She had let Jamie grow up calling a man daddy who had no right to that claim, other than her belief that he was worthy of it.

"Are you disappointed?" Tony asked, concerned by her silence.

She shook her head. "It's just… this seems to make everything more complicated."

"How?" He frowned. From where he was standing, it was easy. "You tell Daniel the truth, and you and Jamie leave him."

Was he really that naïve?

"He will want some sort of shared custody arrangement. I can't do that, Tony," she explained.

"You cannot stay with him," he spat. "Leaving Jamie, and the fact that I don't want that asshole raising my son for one more day of his life _out_ of this; you can't just stay with him, playing the perfect wife while he does whatever the hell he wants!"

"Tony," she spoke quietly, a severe contrast to his yelling.

"I won't just stand by and let that happen, Ziva," he told her adamantly.

She was struck by his reaction, but refused to show it.

"Can we just talk about this tomorrow?" She asked, and he was about to tell her no, before he looked at her, and saw the exhaustion in her eyes, from a day that had been shattering.

"Okay," he sighed, sitting beside her.

"You got ice cream, Ziva?" He asked instead.

"Yes," she responded absently, her mind elsewhere.

"Good, because nights like these are why ice cream was invented," he informed her, approaching the freezer.

"Well there's vanilla, and that rainbow crap that Jamie likes," she said, without any form of interest.

"Rainbow crap! How dare you Ziva," he teased good-naturedly, hoping for a response. He got none. "I guess I'll get you vanilla," he added, and she smiled. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

He got himself a small bowl of Jamie's ice cream, and ended up just handing her the carton of vanilla with a spoon. She hesitated at first, but then clearly realised that there were more important things to worry about.

They talked about everything except Daniel, and what would come of the whole situation. He told her about a few particularly interesting cases they had since she left, and she told him how long it took her to adjust to not working at NCIS.

It was after midnight when they heard Jamie scream "_mommy_", and Ziva was in his room before Tony even had a chance to get up.

He found her sitting on the edge of his bed, stroking his hair back.

"It's okay," she soothed.

"What's wrong?" Tony questioned, unable to take his eyes of Jamie. It was the first time he had looked at Jamie knowing for sure that he was his son, and suddenly his eyes looked less like Ziva's and more like his, in shape at least.

"Had a bad dream," Jamie explained.

"It's okay," Ziva repeated, pulling him into a hug. Tony wondered whether she hugged him to comfort the child or herself.

Of all the women he had slept with in his life, he found it hard to believe that it was Ziva who had his child and didn't tell him about it. But if he had to choose one of them to raise his child, Ziva would be at the top of the list. Just from watching her with Jamie, he knew that even if he wasn't there, the boy would become a good man, all because of her.

"Why is Tony still here?" Jamie asked, and Tony finally tore his eyes off Jamie to look at Ziva.

"We were just talking. He's going home soon," Ziva assured him, and Tony's eyes dropped. He didn't ever want to leave.

"Can I talk to him first?" Jamie requested, and Tony turned his gaze back to the child, surprised.

Ziva gave him a look he hadn't seen in years, the one that said so clearly _if you tell him I'll kill you with a paperclip, _and he almost smiled. She left the room, and Tony took her place, sitting on the edge of Jamie's bed.

"What's up?" He asked, regret suddenly flowing through him. If only he had tried harder, asked Ziva again if the baby was his. If he hadn't run from the possibility, he could have spent every night of Jamie's life like this, tucking him in, saying goodnight.

"Is mommy still sad?" Jamie inquired, and Tony wondered how the boy went from being so scared himself to worrying about his mother.

"She's feeling a bit better," Tony said carefully, although he wasn't sure that she was. In fact she was probably feeling worse.

"Did you make her feel better?"

Tony smiled. "I hope so,"

"She likes it when I hug her. You should hug her too, then she won't be as sad," Jamie promised, and Tony nodded.

"Thanks. You go back to sleep."

He didn't know what to do after that, but Jamie seemed to; he sat up and gave Tony a hug.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, hugging him back.

"Can you stay until I do?" Jamie requested, falling back onto his pillow.

"Sure." Tony sat on the floor, watching as the boy's eyes slowly closed a few minutes later and then waited a few more minutes before leaving the room.

He found Ziva almost asleep on the couch, only awake through sheer determination, he was sure.

"What did he want to talk to you about?" She asked sleepily, sitting up straighter.

"Secret men's business," he said with a smile, sitting beside her. "You should go to bed, you're exhausted."

She stood, and looked at him for a moment, noticing his unwillingness to leave.

"You can stay here tonight, if you want," she offered, sounding as if she couldn't care less what he did. "On the couch," she clarified, and he laughed.

He wondered if she offered because she _wanted_ him to stay. Or maybe he hoped.

"Thanks," he nodded. "If it's okay…" He started, and then he thought maybe she only offered because she could tell he didn't want to leave. She left the room and returned with a blanket and a pillow, handing them to him and disappearing into her room without a word.

She closed the bedroom door with a sigh, sitting on her side of the bed and staring at the photo on her nightstand, the one taken at the wedding. It was a small ceremony, Tony didn't even come. She had known when they got married that she wasn't in love with Daniel. She was just surprised that he had known; that he had called her on it. But she had known that she _could_ love him, if she let herself, and she was sure that he had loved her. She fell asleep in their all too empty bed, trying to convince herself that it was just like any other night when Daniel was coming home late from _work_.

. . . . .

Tony woke up with an all too familiar weight on his back.

"You gunna make a habit of this, kid?" he asked, pretending to be angry, and Jamie laughed. Tony couldn't help but smile at that, lifting the child and tickling him. The sound of his laugh was infectious, and soon enough Tony was laughing too.

"Your mom up?" He asked, and Jamie shook his head furiously, still grinning.

"I thought she was always awake before you," he said, glad Jamie wasn't asking why he was sleeping on their couch.

Jamie shrugged and Tony stood, knocking softly on her bedroom door.

"Ziva?" He asked, looking at his watch. 8.12. Definitely late enough to check on her.

He opened the door slowly, to reveal Ziva flung diagonally across the double bed, her hair wild, covering most of her face.

"Ziva?" He asked again, and she groaned, opening an eye. He smiled. Five years ago she would have pulled a gun from under her pillow and have it aimed at his head by now.

"It's after eight," he informed her, and she sat up reluctantly.

"What day is it?" She asked.

"You been drinking without me last night?" He questioned jokingly, thankful when she shook her head. "It's Saturday," he added.

She nodded slowly, rubbing her eyes, and before he knew it she was back to Ziva.

"Jamie will want breakfast; on Saturday we have pancakes."

She stood quickly, wrapping her robe around her pyjama-clad body before following Tony to the kitchen.

They found Jamie in the living room, looking up at Daniel, who stood beside him.

"You're just as bad as me," Daniel accused softly, and it took all of the self-control Tony had not to punch him.

Tony wanted to tell him to piss off, because he had no right to be in her life, or Jamie's. But Ziva clearly didn't want to tell him that, or she would have already.

Ziva sighed, raking a hand through her unruly hair. She wasn't ready to deal with him – not yet.

She stared at Tony, the look in her eyes begging him to take Jamie and leave her and Daniel to fight this out alone, but his feet remained rooted to the ground, as he pretended not to be able to read the look she was giving him.

"Why don't you go, Tony, this has nothing to do with you," Daniel told him, each word dripping with condescension.

"It has everything to do with me," Tony spat back, but when he glanced at Ziva he shut up. Her look was pleading him to be quiet, to let it go, to leave her to handle it.

"I guess I'm taking Jamie to breakfast," Tony said, dejected, taking Jamie's hand. "Why don't you go get dressed buddy?" He requested, and Jamie nodded, running to his room.

Tony knew that Daniel was trying to stare him down, but he just kept his eyes on Ziva. She was staring back at him with a look he hadn't seen before, one that was appreciative, yet laced with sorrow. In the absence of conversation he snuck a look at Daniel, who was angry, yet non-threatening.

"I'm going to go see how Jamie is doing," he announced, breaking the silence.

He found Jamie sitting on his bedroom floor, wearing jeans, and the jersey Tony had given him for his birthday over a t-shirt, trying to tie his shoes.

"Mommy and daddy never fight," Jamie said. Tony could hear the sadness in his voice, and when he moved to face him he saw the tears clouding his eyes.

"It'll be okay," he said, trying to mimic Ziva's soothing tone from the night before. "What do you want for breakfast?" He questioned, in an attempt to change the topic of conversation. He didn't know how to explain this to Jamie, or what to say.

"Did daddy make mommy sad?" Jamie asked, and Tony sighed, taking Jamie's jacket.

"They just have some grown up things to talk about." Tony explained poorly, unsure of how to avoid a topic with a five year old who asked a hell of a lot of questions. "Let's just go grab some breakfast. What do you want, pancakes?"

Jamie nodded, finally smiling. "And a milkshake,"

"And a milkshake, okay," Tony nodded, following him to the living room. Ziva and Daniel were silent, waiting for Jamie to leave.

"Bye baby, have fun with Tony," Ziva hugged Jamie, and Daniel gave him a forced smile.

"Bye Jame," he said, and Jamie hugged Daniel's leg when he didn't lean down to hug him too.

"Bye Daddy."

Tony's chest tightened involuntarily. Jamie should be saying that to him, not Daniel. Just that simple word made him hate Ziva, a little.

He heard the screaming begin as soon as he shut the door behind them, talking loudly to try to cover it up.

"So what kind of milkshake do you want?"

. . . . .

"You're the one who's angry at me for having an affair, when the first thing you do is jump into bed with Tony!" Daniel yelled, and Ziva shook her head.

"I didn't sleep with Tony!" She shouted back, and he rolled his eyes.

"And you never have, right?" He asked sarcastically. "You are as much at fault for all of this as I am," he added quietly. She was looking at him with this broken look, a look he had never seen before, so he took a deep breath.

"Ziva," he sighed, "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, and she just stared back at him. "I did love you," he added, knowing that she was doubting it. "When we got married I was so in love with you. But didn't love me," he told her, and her gaze shifted, because she knew that it was the truth. "You were in love with him."

Her eyes were no longer clouded with anger, and she blinked in an attempt to hide the fear they now displayed. Fear that he could see right through her. That he had always been able to see right through her.

"You know it's true. You hid it well," he acknowledged. "I thought that when he dropped out of your life after Jamie was born that it would go away. That you'd finally give us a shot. But then I would hear you talking to him on the phone in the middle of the night when you were up with Jamie."

"What?" She asked, her voice not able to hide the surprise as well as she had hoped.

"Ziva," he shook his head. "You may not have known it, or wanted to admit it, but I could tell."

She shook her head, but he just placed a hand on her shoulder. He may have meant for the gesture to comfort her, but it had the opposite effect.

"This is all too much," she muttered.

"I wanted to believe that if I fought hard enough for you, that you would love me in time. But eventually I realised you'd never love me like you loved him."

She felt the heat rushing to her face out of embarrassment, and she didn't understand how he had so successfully turned this around on her.

"You and this woman…" Ziva began, trying to remove the focus from her. "Three years?" she clarified, the one aspect of the whole ordeal she still had trouble comprehending.

"I met her at a conference a little over three years ago. I wasn't… I didn't mean for it to happen. But we just… We just connected…" he shook his head, staring at the ground.

"You… You love her?" She asked, tears flashing in her eyes again, and despite her desire to blink them away, they refused to disappear.

"Ziva," he sighed. "I didn't mean for it to happen," he repeated.

She didn't know if it was better or worse to know that he actually loved her.

"If we didn't have Jamie would you still be with me?"

He asked it neutrally, no underlying agenda, just a simple question.

"Probably not," she admitted softly, after a moment.

"I'm sorry," he told her again, and she nodded.

"We're both in love with other people. But we both love Jamie."

His spelling it out didn't help.

"I, uh… I just need some time," she mumbled, still unable to fully comprehend everything that had occurred in the last twenty four hours.

"Yeah," Daniel sighed. "I think that's a good idea."

. . . . .

Tony sat across from Jamie at breakfast, watching the small child eat, as he realised that he actually knew very little about Jamie. About his son. He knew that his favourite flavour milkshake is chocolate, and that he wants to play basketball, but he didn't know much else.

"What's your middle name, Jamie?" He asked, and Jamie looked up at him.

"Anthony," Jamie replied, his attention on his pancakes.

"Really?" Tony said, a smile spreading across his face. "That's my name, you know."

"Your name's Tony," Jamie answered, frowning, but Tony can't help but grin, regardless of the boy's confusion.

Ziva had given her son, _their _son, his name. James Anthony. It almost made the fact that he had Daniel's last name bearable.

"Good pancakes," Jamie mumbled in between bites, and Tony just grinned wider.

. . . . .

Tony dragged out the breakfast for as long as he could, not even because he wanted to give Ziva and Daniel as much time as possible to sort things out. He almost couldn't face taking Jamie home, because he knew it would lead to he himself going home. He was fairly sure it was the longest breakfast in history, and he admired Jamie for not whining about it. He definitely had his mother's patience.

When they did go home, Tony told himself that he wouldn't yell or scream or get upset, not in front of Jamie. Even if he went in there and Ziva and Daniel were back to pretending to be the perfect happy couple, he would let it go.

The door was unlocked, and he found Ziva sitting on the couch, clearly exhausted, Daniel nowhere to be seen.

"Where's daddy?" Jamie asked, voicing Tony's question in a much less intrusive manner.

"Daddy's packing a bag, he has to go away for work for a little while," Ziva told Jamie, her eyes focused Tony.

"Again?" Jamie verified, and Ziva just nodded.

When Daniel emerged from the bedroom, he took Jamie's hand.

"C'mon Jamie, we're going to visit grandma for a few days," Daniel told the child, who grinned.

"Mommy too?" He asked, seeming to have already forgotten the lie Ziva had told him about his father going away for work.

"Daniel you can't do this, you can't take him with you," Ziva said indignantly, clearly as surprised as Tony by this arrangement.

"He's my son. I'll bring him back in few days and we can figure some sort of arrangement out then."

_But he's not your son! _Tony wanted to scream, but Jamie was standing between them, already confused enough.

"I won't let you take him," Ziva said, and Tony just watched her. The old Ziva would have threatened him physically, and had her way in seconds. But the old Ziva wasn't a mother, with a child who looked up to her, and followed her example.

"It's just a few days with grandma. I've already packed some stuff for him. I'll call you tonight so he can talk to you. Say goodbye to mommy," Daniel added, and Jamie turned to Ziva.

"Bye mommy," he said, and she crouched down, hugging him tightly, and looking up at Daniel with tears in her eyes.

"I'm not doing this out of spite, Ziva," he said softly, and she rolled her eyes. She didn't care _why _he was doing it; she just wanted him to _not_ do it. "I'll bring him back Monday night,"

"What's he going to do when you're at work?" She asked. "You can drop him here…"

"My mom wants to see him, Ziva," he told her, shaking his head. "We'll see you Monday."

Jamie extracted himself from Ziva, giving Tony a hug too.

"Bye, Tony," he said, and Tony hugged him, reluctant to let him go.

"Call when you get there," Ziva said, and Daniel nodded, waving as he took Jamie's hand, leading him out of the apartment.

When the door closed, Ziva let her tears fall, refusing to let Tony comfort her.

"The longest I've been away from him is when he spent the night with you," she admitted, and he sighed.

"It'll be okay, Ziva," he said, although they both knew it wasn't true.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. For iheartiva, Megpie Loves Tiva, and Special Agent Tee-Vah who got the last chapter title!**

**2. YAY for an extra-long chapter**

**3. I think it'll probably a week or so before I can start writing the next one (stupid exams) – sorry! This was initially another cliff hanger, but I moved it to the start of the next chapter instead, so you aren't left hanging.**

**4. Thank you all so much for your reviews, I really appreciate them all, and once exams are over I will be responding to them again. **


	12. You Are Everything To Me

CHAPTER TWELVE – _"You are everything to me._"

"He should have called by now," Ziva mumbled, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, as Tony watched her across the bench. It had only been thirty minutes, but with the majority of that time having been spent in silence, it felt _much_ longer.

"I shouldn't have just let him take Jamie," she said for the fourth time, and Tony remained silent. They had already established that, twenty-six minutes ago.

"I suppose he should have one weekend with Jamie, before…" she trailed off, and Tony's head snapped up to look at her. That wasn't the usual route this conversation took. Usually it ended with some sort of half-hearted consolation from Tony along the lines of 'everything will be okay' that didn't reassure either of them.

"One weekend before what?" He prompted, unable to contain his curiosity.

"I have to tell Daniel."

She spoke surely, as if she had made her decision.

"This isn't fair to either of you," she added softly, and he didn't know what to say in response. He didn't know what the consequences of that particular conversation would be, but he felt it was a step in the right direction. Unable to express the sentiment in words, he reached across the bench and held out his hand, palm up. She gave him a weary smile and took his hand.

. . . . .

When Daniel hadn't called well over an hour later, Ziva's sadness and mild concern had become significant worry, masquerading as anger. Anger that he was being spiteful, denying her the one thing he knew she couldn't leave without – her son.

Tony couldn't help but wonder if Daniel would take Jamie and run, but he was reluctant to voice his concerns. Ziva may have already had the same thought, and he didn't want to turn what she had considered to be an irrational fear to a very real possibility, by telling her that he had thought the same thing.

"Maybe I should call Daniel's mother, see if they've arrived yet," Ziva mused, and he could see her debating it in her mind. He knew that they didn't have the strongest relationship; in fact, Ziva had once described it as mutual hate, but the pain of having to call her was being diminished with every second that she didn't know where Jamie was.

She placed her hand on the phone as it began to ring, and Tony wanted to make a joke along the lines of 'maybe we should have tried that earlier,' but it died on his lips as he realised that this wasn't the time.

"Daniel?" She asked, as Tony watched her response. From the look on her face, it wasn't Daniel on the other end of the line.

The anger in Ziva's eyes faded to concern, as she breathed _yes _in response to a question he hadn't heard.

He watched all the colour drain from her face, knowing that something was wrong. She dropped the phone to the bench, her eyes darting around the kitchen erratically.

"Where are my car keys?" She asked, her voice calm, although her manner was anything but.

"I'll drive," Tony told her firmly. She was _not_ driving in this state. Her driving was dangerous enough to begin with. "Ziva what's wrong?" He asked finally, as her mask fell, the look of utter fear apparent on her face. For a long time he had thought she wasn't afraid of anything.

"They were in a car accident…" Tears formed in her eyes as she murmured the words, and Tony just followed her out the door.

. . . . .

After arriving at the hospital, they were informed that both Daniel and Jamie had just gone into surgery, which only triggered Ziva's tears. He was sure she had probably shed more tears in the last twenty four hours than she had in her life, and he just hoped that there wouldn't be a need for any more after today. She spoke to the doctors, and Tony was amazed she could keep it together long enough to have a conversation with them, when she seemed unable to form words sitting beside him in the waiting room.

She lay with her head in his lap, her legs stretched out along a few chairs, tears falling silently down her face. He just stroked her hair, wondering how it was possible that yesterday he didn't have a son, and only a day later he could be taken away.

Tony had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity before a doctor approached them. He could barely follow the doctor as he spoke; he seemed to dance around the information that they really wanted to know with medical explanations that seemed unimportant. When he finally told them that the surgery was successful, and that Jamie would be fine, Ziva began crying silent tears of relief.

The doctor told them that Jamie was lucky that he only broke his leg, despite the severity of the break, due to how bad the crash was. It was supposed to be reassuring, a reminder that things could have been a lot worse, but it only made Tony wonder just how badly Daniel had been injured.

"Your husband is still in surgery," the doctor added, and Ziva nodded, tears shining in her eyes.

"Can we see him?" Ziva asked, and the doctor motioned for them to follow him.

"I'll just wait out here," Tony told her softly, and she frowned, but continued down the corridor.

He sat back down in the waiting room, wondering why he was so afraid. Jamie was the one who had been through hell, and he was too afraid to see him, in hospital, without that smile on his face. He told himself that Ziva needed time to be alone with Jamie, but truthfully, he was just scared.

. . . . .

She was almost glad that Jamie was still unconscious from the surgery – he would need her to be happy and positive, and she wasn't there yet. She pulled the chair closer to his bedside, taking his hand and clasping it between her own.

"Jamie," she started, but the word barely escaped her throat, so she didn't continue.

His leg was elevated and bandaged, his hair was messy, and his face was pale; he barely looked like the lively and enthusiastic boy she knew.

An errant tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away fiercely. She didn't know when it happened – when she stopped being able to do this all alone.

She found Tony sitting where she last saw him in the waiting room, leaning back in the chair, relief and exhaustion clear on his face. She had no idea what the time was, but it felt as if they had been there, waiting, all day.

"How is he?" Tony asked, as she approached him. He had tears in his eyes that he seemed intent on ignoring, so she didn't mention them either.

She held out her hand in response to the question, leading him to the small room Jamie was in.

"We have to wait for the anaesthesia to wear off," she told him, and he nodded, taking Jamie's hand.

"He told me his middle name," Tony murmured, his eyes on Jamie.

"It was Daniel's father's name," she answered and he smirked.

"Liar." He accused playfully, and he revelled in the ghost of a smile that passed across her lips.

It may have been Daniel's father's name, but that wasn't who Ziva had named him after.

"I cannot lose him, Tony," she mumbled, and he nodded, trying to ignore the tears in his own eyes.

"You won't," he promised, knowing it wasn't something he necessarily had much control over, but also knowing it was a promise he needed to make.

The doctor came and left, checking on Jamie, and explaining that he would need to stay for a few days, and warning them that Jamie may not wake for a few hours. Ziva made it clear that she wasn't going anywhere, regardless of whether Jamie was awake or not, so Tony offered to return to their apartment and grab some things for them while a nurse brought in a cot.

. . . . .

Ziva had been so focused on Jamie that she hadn't instructed him on what to get from their apartment, or where to find it. So he entered the apartment, without a clue as to what they would need. He started in Jamie's room, because he felt it would be easier, filling the backpack hanging on his doorknob with clean pyjamas and a change of clothes, under the assumption that they would be needed if he was going to be staying at the hospital for a few days. He saw the small teddy that lay on Jamie's bed and added it to the bag, remembering Ziva telling him that Jamie had only just recently started leaving the house without it, knowing he would be in need of comfort when he woke.

He entered Ziva and Daniel's room hesitantly. He had been in there that morning, but somehow it seemed more intrusive without Ziva being present. After a small detour to the bathroom to get toiletries, he told himself that he never had a problem snooping through stranger's homes for the purpose of investigating, and that this should be no different. Their room was tidy and simple, void of any personal touches, except for some photos of Jamie.

He found a couple of changes of clothes for Ziva, and some for Daniel, assuming that he would be out of surgery by the time he returned to the hospital, and also in need of them. Finally, he took the left over spaghetti from the night before and piled it into a Tupperware container, knowing that if Ziva stayed by Jamie's bedside for the next few days as she fully intended, she couldn't survive on cafeteria food alone, before returning to the hospital.

He found Ziva in Jamie's room, visibly struggling to stay awake, but refusing to succumb to sleep.

"It's late," he told her, touching her shoulder to make her aware of his presence. "You should get some sleep."

"I don't want to be asleep when he wakes up," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"I'll wake you when he opens his eyes," he told her, but she shook her head, part in determination, and part in an attempt to stay awake.

"Do you want me to get you some coffee?" He offered finally, conceding. Arguing with Ziva had always been pointless when she had her mind set on something. "Some dinner?"

"Just some coffee. Thanks, Tony," she said sincerely, and he nodded before exiting the room. He realised that he hadn't asked if she had any news on Daniel, but if she had spoken to his doctors she would have told him, he rationalised. He wondered whether they should have heard something by now, and whether the fact that they hadn't was a good sign or a bad one. Ultimately, all they could do was wait. They had been told that his side of the car had suffered the impact of the crash, and that there had been swelling in his brain due to the collision, which was the reason for the surgery. The doctors hadn't said much else, and he was just hoping that the old 'no news is good news' adage would ring true, and that the doctors were too busy saving his life to provide updates.

He entered the room and handed her the cup of coffee in silence, taking a seat.

"I tried to call Daniel's mother but she didn't answer," she told him, guilt invading every word.

"It's late, just try again in the morning," he advised, and she sighed, nodding.

Despite the caffeine he fell asleep a little over an hour later, while Ziva sat watching Jamie as if her gaze alone would wake him. When Jamie did wake up, Ziva had given in, dozing in the chair uncomfortably.

"Mommy?" Jamie spoke weakly, and Ziva's eyes flew open at the sound.

"Baby," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, his hand still tightly clasped in hers.

Tony woke at the movement, relief washing over him as he saw Jamie. Tears were falling freely down Ziva's cheeks, however they were tears of relief, as opposed to the tears that she had been crying for the last few hours.

"It hurts," Jamie managed, and Tony watched her relief become concern, as he pressed the button to call a nurse. A nurse arrived with his doctor just moments later, who examined him and adjusted the pain medication.

"Where's Daddy?" Jamie asked once the doctor had left, his voice small.

"The doctor's still making daddy better," Ziva explained, and Jamie nodded slightly.

It wasn't long before different doctors approached Ziva and asked to speak to her privately regarding Daniel, and she slipped out to talk to them while Tony stayed with Jamie.

"How you feeling?" He asked Jamie, who was still gazing at the empty doorway, waiting for Ziva's return.

"Tired," he sighed, looking back at Tony. "When's mommy coming back?" He asked, despite it only having been minutes since Ziva left.

"Soon; she just has to talk to the doctors," Tony explained, moving to the chair that Ziva had occupied, closer to the bed.

"Will I get to have a cast?" Jamie asked, and Tony blinked at the question, surprised.

"I'm not sure, maybe," he replied honestly, as he watched Jamie think this over.

"Mark's brother had a cast on his arm once. It was green," he told Tony, biting his lip. "I want mine to be blue."

Tony smiled, nodding. "Sounds great."

"Can you still teach me how to play basketball?" Jamie inquired after a moment's thought, and Tony shook his head.

"Sorry, buddy, I think we might have to wait for your leg to get better first. But as soon as it does, I'll show you, I promise."

Jamie nodded sleepily, rubbing a hand over his eyes. His speech was softer and little slower, but Tony was just thankful that his injuries weren't too serious; that he was alive.

"You should probably get some sleep." He told Jamie, squeezing his hand. "But when you're feeling up to it, look what I got you," Tony unzipped the backpack, producing a small portable DVD player and a selection of DVD's he had taken from their apartment.

Jamie gave him a small but heartfelt smile. "Awesome. Will you watch one with me tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," Tony responded, reaching into the backpack once more. "I also brought you this little guy," he said, placing small stuffed bear on the bed. "He was feeling a bit lonely at home," Tony explained.

"Thanks," Jamie took the bear, hugging it tightly.

"Mommy's been gone for a while," Jamie observed, concerned, and Tony swallowed, hoping it wasn't the bad sign he knew it to be.

"She'll be back soon," he said, trying to sound confident. "Why don't you try to get some rest? Then when you wake up we can watch a movie."

Jamie nodded slightly, shifting in the bed. "Thanks Tony. I love you," he said softly, and Tony felt his eyes prickle with tears, as Jamie's eyes fluttered shut.

"I love you too, buddy," he responded, unable to think of a moment in his life when hearing those three words had meant that much. Coming from a child they were so honest and pure, without any underlying motivations. Coming from _his_ child, it meant even more.

Tears were falling softly down his cheeks, a build-up of a day full of emotion hitting him all at once, when Ziva entered the room a few minutes later. Her eyes too, were filled with tears, but her expression was one of grief. It took a few seconds for it to click; he hadn't even really contemplated it as a possibility. But it was written all over her face, clear as day. He pulled her into a hug; unable to comprehend what his brain was telling him to be true. He stroked a hand through her hair in an attempt to comfort her, but he wasn't even sure that she registered his actions.

"He didn't make it," she spoke the words unnecessarily, and Tony just held her tighter. "They want to harvest his organs… I need to call his mother…"

The sentences were coming out sporadically, as they came to mind, and after whispering the last one she disentangled herself from Tony's embrace, leaving the room once again.

He stood there in shock, unable to fully grasp what had happened and what the consequences would be. He sat with Jamie, watching the child as he slept, thankful that he had survived; that he would get the chance to know his son.

. . . . .

Over an hour had passed since he had seen Ziva before he left Jamie's room to look for her. She was closer than he had thought – he found her in the waiting room with Daniel's mother, and was unable to tell which woman was comforting the other.

He suddenly felt like an outsider, as if he had no place here, despite being Jamie's father. The realisation hit him suddenly, that this was a family, one which he wasn't a part of. He returned to Jamie's room slowly, unsure of what to do, but unable to leave.

He sat by Jamie's bed, constantly checking the doorway for Ziva. He knew that her relationship with Daniel's mother was complicated, and he didn't want to make it worse by intruding, so he gave them space. Jamie woke a few hours later, seeming less exhausted than he had the night before.

"Where's mommy?" was his first question, and Tony sighed, knowing it wasn't his place to tell him about Daniel, and that Jamie was prone to asking questions that he couldn't answer.

"She's out there talking to your grandma," he answered, hoping there weren't any more questions.

"Nan's here?" Jamie questioned, and Tony nodded.

"She came to see you," he added, and Jamie smiled.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Tony asked, hoping to distract Jamie from asking about Daniel.

"Can mommy and Nan watch too?"

Tony sighed, nodding. He didn't especially want to interrupt the two women, but it seemed easier than waiting for Jamie to ask about Daniel.

"I'll go get them," he said, exiting the room, only to find the waiting room empty. He eventually found them at the cafeteria, speaking softly over coffee, and approached them cautiously.

Ziva noticed him first, her face tear stained but her eyes dry.

"Is Jamie awake?" She asked immediately, and he nodded.

"He wants us all to watch a movie together," he said, and Ziva tilted her head.

"There's no television in his room, Tony," she told him.

"Oh how you underestimate me," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood, but she just gave him a confused look in response.

"Mary, this is Tony, Tony, Mary," Ziva introduced, as Tony held out his hand in greeting.

"Nice to see you again," Tony acknowledged, as she nodded.

They made their way to Jamie's room in relative silence, and Tony couldn't help but notice that Ziva and her mother in law seemed to be getting along, and he wondered what they had spent the last few hours discussing. He had expected that Daniel's death would have put more strain on their relationship, but it seemed to have done the opposite, if anything. Jamie's face lit up when the group entered, although it was soon clear that it was Ziva who he had been waiting to see.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Tony told Mary quietly, as they watched Ziva speaking to Jamie from a few steps away.

"Thank you," she responded, before moving closer to Jamie's bed. From the look on his face, Ziva hadn't told him about Daniel yet.

She had chickened out. Jamie had asked where his father was, and she had lied, telling him he was still with the doctors. She had blatantly lied to her son, because she was too afraid to see him upset. She couldn't bear to look at his face, so innocent, so untouched by grief, and tell him that his father had died, taking it all away. She had informed numerous people of a loved one's death, but somehow when it was her child, it was different. So they sat beside his bed, and watched one more Disney movie before breaking his heart. \

. . . . .

When the credits rolled, Mary announced that she needed to get home, saying goodbye and promising to return later in the day. Ziva was staring at Tony as if she wanted him to leave too, and it took him a few seconds longer than usual to realise why that was.

"I'll be back later, Jamie," he told the child, giving Ziva what he hoped came across to be a supportive look, before following Mary out of the room.

"She's stubborn," Mary stated softly as they waited for the elevator, and Tony frowned before responding.

"Ziva?" He confirmed, and Mary nodded.

"She won't want any help. But she will need it," she told him, taking his hand. "She will need you."

He didn't know what to say in response to that, so he gave her a nod, preparing to step onto the elevator with her before he heard Ziva say his name. So instead, he waved goodbye to Mary, before turning to Ziva.

"Tony," she began, taking a deep breath. "I need some space," she told him simply, and he swallowed. He hadn't been expecting _that_.

"I need to…" she trailed off. "I need to spend some time with Jamie, help him understand this, figure everything out. Can you… Can you just give me some time?"

He drew a hand over his face, frustration gripping him. He understood that the last few days had been impossibly difficult, to say the least. But he couldn't see how giving her space would help.

"I don't need you to understand it, I just need you to do this for me," she told him, reading his mind, or at least his facial expression.

"Leave you alone." He clarified.

"Yes."

"Leave my son alone."

It was the first time he had said it aloud. She didn't respond in words; shooting him a look that told him she wasn't changing her mind, before turning away from him and returning to Jamie's room.

He sighed, watching her disappear down the corridor. He wasn't just going to leave her alone. Mary was right, she would need help, and despite her default setting of refusing to let anyone give it to her, she couldn't do this on her own.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. This chapter was SO hard to finish. I'm not even sure why. But I am sorry for the wait.**

**2. From the research I did, I realise may have taken some liberties with the timing of everything medical. The majority of my medical knowledge was learned from Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice, so I apologise for any errors. **

**3. Megpie Loves Tiva, who got the last chapter title, I know this wasn't exactly happier, as you hoped, but it will get happier, I promise you :)**


	13. I'll Never Leave You Alone

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – _"I'll never leave you alone."_

Space. Just the idea made his stomach churn, because really, it was the exact _opposite _of what he wanted to give her. He made his way home carefully, the exhaustion finally hitting him half way through the trip. He showered quickly, trying to remove the distinct _hospital _smell that seemed to attach itself to anyone who remained in the building for more than an hour, and then climbed into bed before even seeing what the time was. He was exhausted, and despite his brain's inability to switch off, sleep came easily.

He woke early Monday morning, with the sinking realisation that he was actually expected to be at work in a few hours. He considered going for all of two minutes, before deciding that his day was better spent at the hospital with Ziva, regardless of her request for space.

He knew he should at least go and see Gibbs, but when he got into his car he found it too hard not to go straight to the hospital. So he left an insufficient explanation for his absence from work for the day on Gibbs' voicemail, promising a better explanation later, before heading towards the hospital.

When he entered Jamie's room, he found Ziva beside his bed, and couldn't help but wonder if she had moved at all. Jamie was sleeping soundly, but she was awake, and knew that he was there, but she just kept her eyes on Jamie, ignoring his presence.

"Hey," he whispered, making it impossible for her to pretend he wasn't there.

"Tony," she sighed, turning to face him slowly and reluctantly.

It was incredible, how quickly she had flipped the switch. Yesterday she had been devastated, but today she had returned to the seemingly emotionless soldier he hadn't seen in a while, but knew only too well.

"Ziva," he began, unable to remove the sympathy from his tone, and she just stared back at him as if she didn't know why he was being sympathetic.

She had that look in her eyes, the one that was too vacant not to be hiding real emotion.

"Why are you here, Tony?" She asked, her tone impassive, but bordering on angry.

"I know you asked for space," he started, exhaling slowly. "But you forget that I know you. Sure, you may have changed over the last five years, but you're still Ziva. Your first instinct when something bad happens is still to shut everybody out and deal with it alone. You won't let anybody else help you."

She just looked back at him silently, the look on her face unchanging, still breaking his heart.

"But I'm not going to let you do that this time," he declared, and he saw her resolve waver.

"It's not just you anymore," he reminded her, although he knew Jamie was in the forefront of her mind.

"I want to be there for both of you," he added, and she just blinked in response.

"I think you should go, Tony," she finally spoke after a bout of silence, and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere," he told her, pulling a chair up to the bed and taking a seat, to emphasise his point.

He could see the frustration building in her eyes, but he refused to give in.

"How is Jamie doing?" He asked, by way of a distraction.

She sighed, reaching out to grab the child's hand instinctively.

"He was upset. I didn't know how to explain it to him," she said, and he could see the helplessness in her eyes, an emotion that she rarely allowed to be visible.

"He'll be okay," Tony said confidently. "It may just take some time."

She nodded, turning in her chair to look him in the eye.

"_I_ need some time, Tony," she said softly, and he took a deep breath in an effort to stifle his reaction.

"I'm not going to do that," he responded quietly. "You might think you want to be alone, but you will need _someone_,Ziva. You can't do everything by yourself."

She gave him a defiant look that was so close to crumbling into the heartbroken Ziva he had been dealing with yesterday that he had to look away.

"But that's not a bad thing," he added quickly.

"Please, Tony," she asked, the look in her eyes so distinctly _broken _that he couldn't defy her wishes; not at that moment.

"Call if you need anything," he told her finally, knowing that she wouldn't. Ziva was nothing if not stubborn.

"I'll tell Jamie you came to see him," she offered, and he nodded dejectedly before exiting the room.

He would have gone to work after leaving the hospital; however given the incoherent message he had left for Gibbs, there was little chance that he would be allowed to do anything other than paperwork.

So instead, he returned home, and tried to determine exactly what he would to do now.

. . . . .

He waited until it was late enough that Gibbs would be home before driving over there. Knowing that he needed to see Gibbs was the only thing that had prevented him from drinking the night away, although he knew that in this whole situation he had absolutely no right to feel sorry for himself simply because Ziva was being _Ziva _and pushing him away because she felt vulnerable.

He let himself into Gibbs' house without knocking, making his way to the basement loudly, alerting Gibbs to his presence purposefully. He really didn't need to be met with a gun to the head today.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs stated, without looking up from the boat.

It all came spilling out before Tony had a chance to filter it; the whole story, starting five years ago with two one night stands, and Gibbs just watched him, expressionless, as he listened. By the time he got to the end, Tony realised that Gibbs probably knew a great deal of what he was saying already. He wondered just _how_ much he knew. He was too afraid of the answer to ask.

"I don't know what to do, boss," Tony admitted, and Gibbs placed a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

"If she says she needs space, give it to her. Just for a little while," Gibbs said softly.

"She will need someone, to help with Jamie –"

"Give her a chance to realise it. To _want_ your help, Tony."

Tony sighed, knowing that forcing Ziva into anything that she didn't want, regardless of how much she needed it, wasn't exactly something that would improve their relationship.

He was beginning to wonder whether part of his insistence to be there for Ziva was selfishly motivated. In fact he was starting to worry that it was less because Ziva would need his support and more because he couldn't bear to be on the outside of their lives. He had been there for years, and now that he had a taste of the way things could be, he didn't want to go back to being without them.

"I'm sorry about today, boss, I know I should have been at work, I just –"

"It's your son, Tony. I understand," Gibbs brushed him off, his way of expressing such a sentiment, while acting as if he was talking about something as insignificant as the weather, similar to Ziva's.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he confessed softly, uncomfortable showing weakness in front of his boss.

"You'll figure it out, Tony," Gibbs replied, the words exuding the unassuming confidence only Gibbs could manage to express.

Tony just nodded slowly, trying to believe it.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said, standing.

"Goodnight, Tony," Gibbs gave a small nod and watched as his senior field agent ascended his basement stairs with pride, wondering when it was exactly that he stopped putting his interests first.

. . . . .

In the whole plan to keep his distance from Ziva and Jamie, Tony decided that funerals didn't apply. The whole team came, to support Ziva, including Abby and Ducky, seated towards the back of the fairly large crowd. Tony could see Ziva and Jamie at the front with Mary, surrounded by other people Tony had never seen before in his life.

The service was quick, for which he was thankful, and he couldn't help but look for Ziva after it had finished. She was receiving sympathies from a multitude of people while holding Jamie in her arms.

"Hey, Ziva," he greeted her softly, once he was close, and she gave him a tight smile in response.

"Tony," Jamie said with a teary smile, turning slightly in Ziva's arms to face him.

"No crutches?" He questioned, and Ziva shook her head.

"He's too young; his balance isn't good enough," she explained. "He's supposed to be resting, but he wanted to come, to say goodbye," she said, her voice becoming softer with every word she spoke.

Tony nodded, his heart breaking at the sight of Jamie's tear-stained face.

"You want me to take him for a little while?" Tony offered, and Ziva shook her head as Jamie held his arms out to Tony.

"Be careful," she allowed reluctantly, before transferring Jamie into his arms.

"You okay bud? Leg doesn't hurt too much?"

Jamie shook his head bravely in response to the second question, and it was then that Tony realised that he was being unusually quiet.

"I'm sorry," Tony told the two of them needlessly, despite having said it before.

Ziva nodded, as Gibbs and the others approached them slowly.

"Ziva," Gibbs breathed, the sentiment being expressed in one word alone. He placed a kiss to her temple, pulling her into a tight hug. Tony watched as that simple action was enough to prompt tears in her eyes, and as each of the other members of the team provided her and Jamie with their own form of condolence.

"You okay, Jamie?" he whispered to the child, who was quiet in his arms.

Jamie just nodded, the tears beginning to fall contradicting his response. Ziva took him carefully back into her arms, her own eyes beginning to water at the sight of her crying son.

"It's okay, baby," she murmured, stroking a hand through his hair. Jamie was whispering inaudibly to Ziva, who nodded and continued to comfort him until his tears subsided.

"We have to go," she whispered, which was met with a series of understanding nods.

Tony watched as she walked away, holding Jamie as if she was afraid he would break, and Tony just hoped that she was letting _someone_ in.

. . . . .

The wake was crowded.

Ridiculously crowded, at least Tony thought, with more people than he had ever seen at a wake, but he didn't question it, simply standing in the corner with the group from NCIS, words between them being exchanged occasionally.

It was held at Daniel's mother's house, and Tony couldn't help but remember the last time he had been there, for a much happier occasion. Ziva and Mary were continuously being approached by people Tony wasn't even sure they knew, while Jamie sat on the couch in the living room, only a few of the people present even acknowledging him.

Tony started towards him carefully, taking a seat beside the child on the couch.

"Hey Jamie," he said, unsure of how to act around a child who had just lost the man he knew to be his father.

"Hi," Jamie spoke softly, his eyes reluctant to meet Tony's. "When are they going to leave?" He asked in almost a whining tone, his eyebrows knitted together and a small pout on his face.

"I don't know, bud," Tony replied, giving him a sympathetic smile. "You tired?"

"No. They just keep looking at me funny," he raised a hand to gesture towards McGee, who was watching the two of them with a concerned look on his face.

"McGee's looking at me funny, not you, I promise," he chuckled, waving at McGee slowly, who scowled and looked away in response.

"See?"

Jamie gave him a smile; something Tony wouldn't have been as excited to see a week ago, but today, it felt like a rare gift.

"I'm bored," Jamie sighed, his demeanour suddenly returning to the way it was initially, sad and introverted.

Tony nodded slowly, extending his arms to Jamie wordlessly in response, before lifting Jamie carefully to his chest.

He found Ziva quickly, an easy task due to the group of people who seemed to be constantly surrounding her. Having Jamie in his arms proved to make people move out of their way almost instantly, each of them regarding Jamie with pity in their eyes, something that was making even Tony uncomfortable.

"Is it okay if I take Jamie, just to give him a bit of a break?" He asked Ziva quietly, who nodded, her face perfectly void of emotions, save for the broken look in her eyes, that gave away her mask of strength.

"He should be resting anyway," Ziva agreed, brushing Jamie's dark hair back with one hand.

"Come with me," Mary ordered quietly from beside Ziva, her tone kind but firm, as Tony followed her obediently through the house. She led them to a spare bedroom, a single bed made neatly in the corner.

He set Jamie on the bed, returning to Mary, who was waiting for him in the doorway.

"She loves you, you know?" she said softly, her face contorted in an emotion that Tony wasn't able to read.

He frowned, unable to fully decipher her words, before she turned and left them alone. He had to assume she was referring to Ziva, but he didn't know why she felt the need to tell him that. Was it supposed to be a reassurance, due to Ziva's recent behaviour? Or simply something that Mary felt he needed to know?

He turned to Jamie, who was lying on the bed unmoving; his eyes now glazed with tears.

"What's wrong, buddy?" He asked, trying to sound upbeat in an attempt to avoid fully fledged tears if possible. He had never been good around crying children.

"I need to tell Daddy I'm sorry," Jamie said, trying feebly to blink away the tears.

It took Tony a moment to respond; to understand what he was saying, before answering.

"If he knows I'm sorry he'll come back," Jamie added, and Tony felt his chest tighten, as he saw the hopeful look in the child's eyes.

"Why are you sorry? You don't have anything to be sorry about," he replied, focusing on that part, rather than telling Jamie that no amount of apologising could bring Daniel back.

"Daddy told me that I had to stay with Nan when he went to work and I said that I wanted to go back to mommy instead and he said no and I got angry at him," Jamie confessed, and Tony pulled Jamie into a hug, because no child should have that kind of guilt on his shoulders.

"He knows that you're sorry, that you didn't mean it," Tony assured him, as Jamie looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

"Then why isn't he coming back?"

Tony bit his lip, reluctant to answer.

"He can't come back, Jamie," he finally said, watching the tears spill over, Jamie's face becoming red.

"He's never coming back?" Jamie sobbed, and Tony just hugged the child tighter.

"No," he whispered, never in his life having felt so helpless.

. . . . .

After having waited for Jamie to drift off to sleep, which he did easily despite claiming that he wasn't tired, Tony returned to the living room, finding only a few people left and Ziva speaking to Mary and Gibbs in the kitchen.

"How's Jamie?" Ziva inquired.

"He's sleeping," Tony answered, avoiding truly answering the question.

Ziva frowned slightly, dissatisfied with his response.

"I am going to go, Ziva," Gibbs spoke, offering her a quick hug before leaving. It was a moment before Tony registered that McGee had been the one to drive him here, and that no one from NCIS was still there.

Suddenly Gibbs' knowing smirk upon his departure made sense, and he wondered whether Gibbs had ever created situations like this for him in the past.

As time passed the remaining few people trickled out of the house, leaving just Tony, Ziva and Mary. The conversation was awkward and forced, and Tony could tell Ziva was waiting for him to leave voluntarily.

"Gibbs was my ride," he finally told her, and she rolled her eyes slightly.

"I'll drive you home," she offered, albeit reluctantly.

Mary gave Ziva a small smile, in what Tony could only assume to be assurance that she would watch Jamie.

"You and Mary seem to be getting along," he observed as they began to drive, and she nodded in affirmative.

"She's staying with us for a little while," she said, slowing at a yellow light. Tony did a double take, momentarily forgetting that it was Ziva driving, due to the decreased speed. He was about to comment on it, before he realised that it would probably be in bad taste when it wasn't even a week since her husband had died due to a car accident.

"So, uh, things are better, between the two of you?" He said instead.

"She told me that it wasn't that she didn't like me, it was that she didn't think Daniel and I should marry. She knew we were not in love," Ziva replied, shaking her head slightly, but keeping her eyes on the road.

"You two are friends?" He asked sceptically.

"I can talk to her," she responded. "She still wants to be in Jamie's life, even though she knows you are his father."

"You told her?" He asked, his surprise clear.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Are you going to tell Jamie?"

"When everything goes back to normal."

Tony nodded, although he wasn't sure anything would ever be normal again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. Really sorry for the delay. I update as soon as I can, but my free time is pretty limited. **

**2. Shout out to MegpieLoves Tiva Special Agent Tee-vah :D**

**3. Thanks for reading :)**


	14. I Could Wait Patiently

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – _"I could wait patiently…"_

When it came to Ziva, there was a limit to the amount of times he could deny her something that she asked for, whether he thought he was denying her of it for her own good or not. So it was really only a matter of time, and persistence on her part, before he gave in to her desire to be left alone.

"_You're making it worse, Tony," she had informed him, her eyes pleading, and he felt a familiar surge of guilt, only this time it was more prominent. _

_Were his motives purely selfish? Did she really need him, or did he just want her to need him?_

"_If you need anything," he had said seriously, and she nodded. "I'd do anything for you and Jamie… But don't shut me out forever?" He pled. He didn't care that his voice was dangerously vulnerable. He didn't care that he sounded desperate. He couldn't handle being without her for another five years. Let alone Jamie._

"_Thank you, Tony."_

_She _was _grateful, that much was clear – he could see it in her eyes. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this would do more harm than good, indulging her desire to be independent. _

So he gave her two and a half months. For two and a half months, he pretended that everything was normal, well, what normal had been for the last five years.

He went to work, he finished his paperwork, and he went home. When he was feeling particularly frustrated, he went for a run. He then watched a movie, and went to sleep.

In the beginning, trying to keep his distance was difficult. But it was as if with every day that passed, it stopped being hard not to go and see her, and began being hard to imagine facing her. Every day that passed put one more day between them, and it began to be too reminiscent of the years they had spent apart. He could feel himself falling back into the habit of avoiding her, and eventually he realised he couldn't do that. He couldn't spend the next five years without her, without _them_.

With time to think, time away from the situation, his anger towards her returned. Emotion like that didn't just go away; it lingered until it was resolved. Once the shock of the accident wore off, and he managed to return to some sort of equilibrium, it came bubbling back to the surface. Anger that she had kept Jamie from him; that he had missed five years of his son's life because of her choices. And Jamie just seemed to be a reminder of that.

But as more time passed, he could almost understand where she was coming from, why she had done what she had done. As much as he wanted to think otherwise, if she had told him that she was pregnant, and that there was a good chance the baby was his, his first instinct would probably have been to run. Commitment and responsibility, two things he used to be petrified of, before he knew better. Before he saw what it really looked like. Jamie. James Anthony. The child had the ability to make every fear he had disappear, only to be replaced with an intense urge to protect him from everything.

He wondered what they were doing, while he spent his time trying to do right by them, trying to give them space to grieve the death of a man they both loved, even though he didn't deserve it. How she was managing to be a single mother, without any significant income. But she had vehemently told him that she would be fine, just fine without him, and Ziva was nothing if not determined. So he gave them space. But two months and nineteen days later, he decided that he had had enough space. His anger towards her had slowly diminished over the last month, and while he was still angry at himself for missing the first five years of his son's life, he couldn't understand what he was doing giving them space now. He didn't want to miss any more.

. . . . .

They no longer had the huge three bedroom apartment – they had moved into a much smaller and much more simplistic one. He knocked on the door, a familiar nervous feeling churning in his stomach.

He expected her to answer the door, but instead he lowered his gaze to find Jamie, as she came running, reprimanding him for answering the door to a stranger.

"But he's not a stranger, he's Tony," Jamie reasoned, and she just rolled her eyes.

"You didn't know that when you opened it," she reminded him.

"You got your cast off," Tony interjected, and Jamie grinned. "Yep, I'm almost all better," he said proudly, and Tony smiled, thankful to see the child with a smile on his face.

However when he diverted his gaze to Ziva, he found her not to be as excited by his presence.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" She asked, and he looked at her. Her face was not only void of emotion, but almost seemed incapable of even expressing an emotion. It was a mask that had been firmly in place when they met but had slowly etched away over time. He wasn't exactly happy to see its return.

"I gave you some space, like you requested, and now… Now I'm done giving you space," he told her firmly.

She didn't respond.

"Can I show Tony my new room?" Jamie asked, breaking the silence and looking up at his mother.

"Sure, baby," she responded, her eyes still fixed on Tony.

Tony followed the child slowly through the apartment, to Jamie's room. It was smaller than before, but Jamie didn't seem to mind.

"Mommy made my walls blue," he beamed, pointing to the bright blue walls, and Tony nodded, surveying the room.

"It's cool, buddy," Tony responded. "How have things been going since I last saw you?"

"Okay, I guess," Jamie shrugged. "My leg's better but I walk funny. Mommy says I have to walk slow."

"You'll get faster. Soon you'll be faster than me," Tony promised.

"How's your mom?"

"She's still sad because Daddy's in heaven." Jamie explained.

"I bet you're taking great care of her, though."

"I give her lots of hugs to make her feel better but she's still sad," Jamie's face contorted as if he was about to cry, and Tony pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sure you make her feel better," he told Jamie confidently.

Jamie sniffled and nodded as he pulled away.

"Why did you stop coming over?" Jamie asked with a frown, and Tony sighed, unsure of how exactly to explain his absence.

"Your mom said she wanted to spend some time just with you, in case you feel sad about your dad being in heaven," Tony answered finally, using Jamie's words.

"I was sad," Jamie admitted, looking downwards. "But I'm not sad much now."

"That's good. I know your dad really loved you, you should remember that," Tony told the child slowly, despite the words seeming to get lodged in his throat as he spoke.

"Will mommy stop being sad?" Jamie asked, as Tony's chest constricted.

"Yeah, she will. She just needs some time," Tony said, hoping the words were true. She had wanted time to heal, alone, and he couldn't stop the tiny surge of irritation that she had kept him at arm's length and it hadn't helped. He couldn't understand why she was seemingly so affected by the death of a man who had been lying to her throughout their entire marriage.

"Why don't you play in here for a little while and I'll go talk to your mommy?" Tony suggested, and Jamie nodded obediently, moving to the small desk in the corner.

"I'll draw you a picture," Jamie offered enthusiastically.

Tony smiled. "That sounds great."

. . . . .

He found Ziva folding laundry in the living room, the TV playing softly in the background.

"Hey," he began, before sitting down beside her and picking up a pair of Jamie's pyjama pants to fold.

She remained silent, feigning concentration on the mundane task.

"How are you doing?" He asked, and she stared back at him with vacant eyes, nodding.

The words spewed out, a spiel he was sure she had prepared while he was with Jamie.

"Good. Jamie's legs healing properly, the limping should go away completely in a month or so. He's starting elementary school soon, which will be a change, him being there all day. We're living closer to Mary now, which is good; she has been helping out a lot-"

"How are _you_ doing?" He repeated, and she blinked, faltering.

He let the silence engulf them, forcing her to answer.

"Sometimes I don't know what to say. Jamie asks me things about Daniel, about death, and I don't know what to say. He won't sleep in his room. I'll put him to bed and he will just sneak into my room. Even when I wait for him to fall asleep, he will end up in with me by the end of the night."

"That doesn't sound too out of the ordinary for a kid that just lost his father," he responded, and the look in her eyes caused a pain in his chest that wouldn't go away. They both knew Daniel was not Jamie's father, and that Jamie had to deal with the grief anyway didn't seem fair. That Tony couldn't be his father didn't seem fair. Nothing about the situation seemed _fair_.

"But how are _you_?" He stressed. "I'm concerned about _you_."

"You shouldn't be. He is not the first person whom I loved who has died," she told him, her tone so matter of fact that it broke his heart. He hated that Daniel was now just another name on a list of her loved ones who were dead; a list that he was sure was longer than he imagined it to be. Longer than anyone's list should be.

"Jamie said that you're still sad," Tony explained, and she gave him a rueful smile.

"He is too perceptive for his own good."

"Just like you," he said, nudging her arm playfully with his elbow in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I miss Daniel," she admitted, and he nodded. "He was my best friend," she explained. "Regardless of anything else, he was my best friend. We spent six years together."

He let the statement sink in before turning to her.

"I understand that. And I did what you wanted, I gave you space…"

She nodded, acknowledging the fact, and he swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing.

"Now do something for me. Hear me out."

She nodded meekly, and he took a deep breath.

"I'm not going anywhere," he told her firmly. I want to spend time with my son; I want to be there for him. I can take him to school; pick him up, whatever you need. I also want to be there for you," he added softly, forcing her to catch his eye. "I want to be the one you call when Jamie refuses to sleep in his own bed and you're worried about him. The one you turn to."

He scowled as he realised that he used to be that person, and he let it go because of his _pride_. He didn't speak his mind, he let feelings he knew to be true stay unspoken, until it was too late. Until Daniel was in the picture and the opportunity was gone, the position he wanted to be in – filled.

"I used to be that person, Ziva," he reminded her, pulling her to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "I used to be your best friend, regardless of anything else."

She slowly relaxed into the embrace, taking a deep breath and letting the mask fall, tears in her eyes.

"I've missed you," she admitted.

"You could have called," he told her, relaying a sentiment she had expressed to him years ago.

She allowed a small smile before they fell into comfortable silence, the television still playing in the background.

"I should go check on Jamie," he said eventually, standing slowly.

"He has been quiet for a long time," she realised, following Tony into Jamie's room, to find Jamie still seated at his small desk, drawing.

"How's it going bud?" Tony asked, squatting beside the desk. Jamie flipped the paper in a quick motion, his face determined.

"It's not finished yet," he said adamantly, and Ziva chuckled as Tony stood.

"Okay," Tony agreed, smiling at the familiar determined look on the child's face – it was the same look Ziva had, and it always wore him down.

"I'm going to start dinner," Ziva said softly, squeezing Tony's arm before leaving the room. He didn't know if that was an invitation to stay or a suggestion to leave.

"You finish that drawing, okay Jamie? I want to see it," he said, moving towards the door, his eyes on Jamie. Jamie nodded furiously, returning to the picture.

"How about I make dinner?" He offered as he entered the kitchen, where Ziva stood pulling vegetables out of the fridge. "And by make I mean order," he clarified with a smile.

She allowed a smile in response, shaking her head. "It's fine."

"So am I staying for dinner?" He asked, and she looked at him.

"I don't know, are you?" she returned, her eyes more alive than he had seen in years. There was a familiar sparkle in them that was breaking through the emotionless façade. He grinned, wider than he had in months, at the sight.

"Yep. So, how can I help?"

. . . . .

In the end he had convinced Ziva to let him stay the night, in an effort to get Jamie to sleep the whole night in his own bed. She had rolled her eyes and muttered a sarcastic _good luck _which only made him more determined.

"So your mom told me that you haven't been sleeping in your bed," Tony began, as Jamie climbed into bed, and bit his lip, embarrassed.

"It's okay," Tony added. "I just thought maybe we could try something different. What if I sleep here on the floor? You can sleep in your bed, and I'll be right here."

"You're gunna sleep on the floor?" Jamie asked, his nosed scrunched up in confusion.

"Yep," Tony grinned, producing the pillow Ziva gave him and setting it on the ground, a foot from Jamie's bed.

"And then tomorrow I was thinking that we could try shooting that basketball," he suggested, motioning towards the small ball in the corner of the room. Jamie's face broke into a grin as he nodded furiously.

"Just shooting, because we have to be careful with your leg," Tony warned, but the smile on Jamie's face didn't falter.

"Can mommy come?"

"Absolutely."

"Awesome," he replied, content.

Ziva entered the room, sitting on the edge of Jamie's bed to read him a story before kissing the top of his head and exiting the room.

"'Night, Jamie," Tony whispered.

"Goodnight, Tony," Jamie responded, a smile visible on his face in the dim light.

Tony watched Jamie carefully, waiting for him to drift off, wondering if nights like these were what his future held. Dinner spent trying to convince Jamie to eat his carrots, followed by some sort of children's movie with a happy ending. He couldn't imagine a better future.

"Hey Tony?" Jamie asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Thanks for coming back. I know my mommy really missed you. I really missed you too," he mumbled, his voice soft and sleepy.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jamie," Tony promised, looking over to the child only to find his eyes closed. He smiled before closing his own eyes, willing himself to sleep despite the early hour and the less than comfortable conditions.

. . . . .

Tony woke up slowly, his back already throbbing in pain from sleeping on the floor. But he knew it would be worth it, if Jamie had spent the night in his own bed. He craned his neck to find the bed empty, sighing. He stretched slowly before getting up and moving into the living room, finding it empty. He pushed the door to Ziva's bedroom open slowly, after much debate, to see Jamie clinging to Ziva, who was flung across the bed, as usual. He smiled, satisfied, and returned to the kitchen, pulling eggs out of the fridge.

It wasn't long before he was joined by Ziva, who began setting the table silently.

"I guess you were right about Jamie," he offered.

"What do we do?" She asked, and he couldn't stop the surge of happiness at her use of '_we'_ as opposed to _'I'_.

"Give him some time. I'd say he's pretty doing well."

Jamie emerged from the bedroom with his Wizards jersey pulled over his pyjamas, stopping in the middle of the kitchen.

"I'm ready," he announced, and Ziva's face broke into a grin that was only ever visible in the presence of her son.

"I don't think so," she laughed, pointing at the bright blue and orange _Tigger _pyjamas and taking his hand. "Let's go get you properly dressed."

Tony smiled at the scene, serving eggs onto three plates and taking the orange juice out of the fridge.

They returned a few minutes later, with Jamie dressed in shorts and a T-shirt under his jersey, and paper in his hand.

"It's finished now," he declared, handing the booklet to Tony.

It was a series of drawings, fastened together with ribbon that had been tied by Ziva, and Tony bit his lip in an attempt to mask the explosion of emotion rushing through him that he was sure was clearly visible on his face.

"That's you and me on the jumping castle at my party," Jamie explained as he flipped through the pictures slowly. "And on the swings, and playing basketball today," he beamed, leaving the book in Tony's hands before taking a seat at the table. Tony reread the scrawled 'I love you' on the back page, as he watched Jamie and Ziva together, knowing he'd never let them go again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. I'm going overseas without my laptop for four weeks, so I won't be able to update until most likely the end of January. However I do plan to do some writing while I'm away so hopefully I'll have a chapter ready to update when I get back. Apologies in advance for the wait. **

**2. It has been Christmas on my side of the world for about an hour, so Merry Christmas!**

**3. I was half asleep while editing this chapter, so please forgive any mistakes. **

**4. Special Agent Tee-vah, once again, hats off to you :)**

**5. Thanks for reading! **


	15. After All This Time, You And I

CHAPTER FIFTEEN – _"After all this time, you and I"_

They spent the morning playing basketball, Tony endeavouring to teach Jamie how to play without putting any extra pressure on his leg, which proved to be more difficult than he initially anticipated. He ended up hoisting the child up onto his shoulders, while Ziva stood behind them, nervously waiting to catch Jamie if he were to fall.

"I'm not going to drop him," Tony repeated, as Jamie giggled, one hand planted on Tony's head, the other grasping a child-sized basketball.

"Well not on _purpose_," she agreed, not moving.

"I suppose you never know," Tony teased, swerving from side to side, his hands clasped firmly around Jamie's waist.

She followed his movements with a deadly glare, as he began to move faster towards the basket.

"Dunk, Jamie," he encouraged, as the child placed the ball in the hoop carefully, unsure.

"Very good," Tony praised enthusiastically, lowering Jamie to the ground slowly as Ziva retrieved the ball.

"We need to get going," Ziva reminded them after a glance at her watch, taking Jamie's hand.

"Are we in a rush?" Tony queried.

"Jamie has to be at Zoe's house by two," she explained, and Tony nodded in understanding.

"I see," he said solemnly. "The girlfriend."

Ziva chuckled, that twinkle in her eyes he had missed so much returning. "I don't think so," she laughed. "They're five years old."

"She's not my girlfriend," Jamie agreed, frowning.

"Of course not," Tony responded with a grin. "But this is how it begins," he declared.

"She's a sweet girl," Ziva assured him, who nodded.

"Of course she is. Jamie has good taste," he said proudly. "So what are _your_ plans this afternoon, Ziva?"

"Laundry," she said, her smile turning sarcastic. "Cleaning."

"I don't think so," he shook his head. "You and me, and a movie. I'll even let you pick."

"That sounds like quite the honour."

"Can you take me and Zoe to the movies?" Jamie piped up, turning to Ziva, his eyes pleading.

"You are going to Zoe's house," she said firmly. "Next weekend I'll take the two of you to the movies."

"I wanna come," Tony whined, a smirk on his face directed at her.

She rolled her eyes, unlocking the car. "If you're good," she allowed, chuckling.

. . . . .

After stopping for lunch, they took Jamie to Zoe's, Tony waiting in the car as Ziva walked Jamie in. he sighed as he saw her approach, knowing she would soon call this weekend to an end, and tell him that it was probably time for him to go home.

"A movie?" She asked instead as she got in the car, and he hoped that the involuntary grin that spread across his face hid his surprise.

"I'm always up for a movie," he agreed.

"You know you don't drive like a crazy person anymore," he complimented. "It's a nice change."

"Didn't want to have an accident, with Jamie in the car," she explained, her eyes on the road. The irony of the statement hit him almost immediately.

"You can't protect him from everything," he reminded her gently, watching her as she focused on the road, refusing to turn to look at him even for a moment.

"I know that," she responded, exhaling.

Silence engulfed them, as she slowed at a red light, sighing impatiently.

"Teaching Jamie to drive will be interesting," she mused, offering a change in conversation.

"I'll teach him," he said, too much of a statement to be an offer.

"_That_ would be interesting. He has your patience. Or rather your _lack _of patience," she amended.

"Ha! That, he gets from you, Miss I-can't-bear-to-wait-at-a-red-light," he said, as her foot tapped quickly, willing the light to change faster.

"Maybe I'm just looking forward to getting rid of you?" She teased, a sly smile playing across her face.

"Oh!" He cried, feigning horror. "That hurts! Maybe I'll never leave," he suggested.

"That wouldn't be the worst thing," she said softly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment before pulling away. By the time the gravity of her statement hit him, and he turned back to her for some sort of confirmation that he actually heard her correctly, she was refusing to look back at him, and he was left wondering whether he imagined the whole thing.

. . . . .

"Your movie collection is a disgrace. Although the children's selection is excellent," he observed, running a finger over the spines of the DVD's, as she sat watching him from the couch.

"Jamie loves his movies," she commented, watching pride light up his face.

"Well, what's it gunna be?" he turned to her, waving a hand in front of the shelf.

"You can choose," she allowed, standing. "As long as it's not _Finding Nemo_, I swear Jamie has seen it so many times I think I could recite the whole movie word for word."

He chuckled, retrieving one of the only movies not aimed for an audience of ten and under, and putting it in the DVD player.

"Still a favourite?" He questioned, tossing her the cover.

"_Pirates of the Caribbean_," she read, catching the cover with a smile. "Absolutely."

"Excellent."

. . . . .

It isn't until the end of the movie that he realised just how little space there was between them. At the start there had been a small gap, but somehow the inevitable jostle to get comfortable during a lengthy movie resulted in the side of her body pressed against his, her head resting against his shoulder. When the credits began to roll, she turned to face him, her lips far too close to his for him to be held accountable for his actions.

He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop him, before placing a chaste kiss on her lips, then lingering millimetres away, waiting for her reaction. She smirked at the look on his face, so open, so hopeful, lifting a hand to run through his hair slowly. She didn't speak, unable to form a coherent sentence to express the multitude of feelings making her head spin.

He laughed nervously, refusing to pull away, and her eyes fluttered shut as she rested her forehead against his.

He was calling her bluff, she knew it. He was waiting for her to speak because he didn't want to be the one to initiate the conversation. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, brushing her lips against his tentatively. He smiled then, knowing that simple gesture was enough for now.

She sighed contentedly, sitting up properly.

"I have a job interview tomorrow," she told him quietly, picking up the remote to turn off the television.

"Really?" He asked, confused.

"The school doesn't have a full time position available, and I'm going to need a full time job," she explained.

There were too many questions he wanted to ask - did Daniel have life insurance? Did he leave them with anything? Could he help them out? - but the look on her face was advising him against it.

"There is a position available at NCIS, in counterintelligence. Gibbs got me the interview. He thinks it would be a good fit."

"It would be," he grinned, hugging her. "It'd be great. Like old times, only… different."

"Very different," she agreed. She couldn't believe that after everything, this is where they had ended up. She couldn't help but wonder if they would have got here sooner had she made some different decisions.

"I've missed seeing you every day," he murmured, reaching out to touch her, seeking some sort of confirmation. Somehow, in one weekend, their relationship had taken leaps forward without either of them uttering a word. It was hard to comprehend.

She smiled, reading his mind, and leant into his hand.

There was a knock on the door, and she stood up quickly, moving to answer it. Zoe's mother had agreed to drop Jamie home on her way to take Zoe to ballet. She opened the door, Jamie and Zoe bounding inside and running towards Jamie's room before she could even register what had occurred.

"Zoe we can't stay!" Zoe's mother called after them as Ziva smiled knowingly, stepping aside to let Lissa in.

"Hey, Ziva," she smiled. "How was your afternoon?" Her smile spread as she spied Tony on the couch.

"Good. Thanks for dropping him off, hope he wasn't too much trouble," Ziva replied.

"Not at all. Somehow when there are two of them though, their energy seems to increase exponentially," she laughed, as Tony stood, approaching them.

"Lissa, this is Tony, Tony, this is Zoe's mother, Lissa," she introduced, as Tony reached out to shake her hand politely.

"Nice to meet you," he said, as Lissa smiled, shooting a smirk at Ziva, who was trying her best to seem oblivious.

"I'm going to go check on those two," he offered, gesturing towards the hallway, as Lissa nodded.

"Tell Zoe we only have five minutes," she returned, waiting until he had disappeared down the hallway before breaking into a grin.

"Oh, Ziva. You need me to take Jamie to watch Zoe's ballet class or will you be able to control yourselves until his bedtime?" She teased, still smirking.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ziva said, mortified that she couldn't prevent the blush from rising to her cheeks.

"You forget just how much I know," Lissa reminded her. "But damn. That man is fine; I don't know why you ever let him go. I sure hope you've made it clear you don't want him leaving anytime soon."

"It's complicated!" she exclaimed softly, her eyes on the hallway.

"Oh I'm sure it is. But I'm also sure, that it isn't nearly as complicated as you think."

With a sly grin, Lissa turned at the sound of footsteps, seeing Tony ushering Jamie and Zoe down the hall.

"These two cheat at snap," Tony pouted.

"You're just sad you lost," Jamie teased, poking Tony's leg playfully.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony complained, a smile on his lips.

"Well we better get going. Good luck for tomorrow," Lissa told Ziva, taking Zoe's hand as Tony opened the door.

"Thank you for having me over," Jamie said dutifully, after a nudge from Ziva.

"No problems, Jamie," Lissa smiled, as Zoe and Jamie waved goodbye. "Don't you feel guilty, now," Lissa warned Ziva, her words with a soft lilt, but accompanied by a stern expression on her face.

"Bye," Ziva said pointedly, waving as they closed the door.

"What was that?" Tony inquired, as Jamie began bouncing uncontrollably.

"Nothing," she said, ignoring the probing look on his face, and directing her attention to her son.

"What's up, Jamie?"

"Can Tony stay for dinner?"

"Well, I don't know, Tony, can you stay for dinner?"

Her eyes were sparkling, and it made his knees weak.

"Of course," he agreed easily. "Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

. . . . .

They were falling into a routine, he could feel it. He could see them spending evening after evening like this, as a family, as the family they were always supposed to be, give or take a few roadblocks. He could see them telling Jamie a bedtime story together before spending the rest of the evening with a bottle of wine and a movie flickering in the background.

"Can you sleep in my room again?" Jamie asked as they packed up dinner,

Tony shook his head sadly. "Sorry buddy, but I have to go to work in the morning. I'll drop by afterwards though," he promised, after seeing the assent in Ziva's eyes.

Jamie nodded, satisfied, as Tony began to load the dishwasher.

"You go get your PJ's on, okay, baby? We'll be there in a minute," Ziva requested, and Jamie scurried away.

"You and Lissa seem close," Tony commented.

"Yeah. She's a good friend. Jamie and Zoe get along well."

"He's adorable with her. So, can I pick you up tomorrow? We could drive in together?"

"My interview's in the afternoon," she explained. "But come by tomorrow night. Jamie would love to see you."

"Who's watching him during your interview?"

"I'm dropping him off at Mary's in the morning, so they can spend the day together. I'll pick him up on my way home."

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly, watching her as she turned on the dishwasher and moved around the kitchen quickly, putting everything back in its place.

He caught her in a corner, and he hated that tiny flash of fear that it invoked, being trapped unexpectedly. He stepped back, although she reached for him anyway.

"I love you," he whispered, suddenly desperate for some sort of verbal validation. "I would do anything for you, for Jamie."

She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping from his eyes to the ground. "I know how much you love Jamie," she began, a worried frown crossing his face. "You love the ideal in your head of the perfect family, but I'm not sure that you really –"

"How can you think that?" He implored, his eyes flashing with hurt as he realised where she was going. "I love you." He stated, this time forcefully. "Maybe it took me longer than it should have to realise it, but I love you," he repeated.

He had rendered her speechless, which was an accomplishment, one he would have been proud of, had he not been so invested in her response.

She nodded slightly this time, allowing a small smile.

"I love you too," she responded softly, watching him grin broadly in response.

"Yeah?" He asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah," she confirmed with a smile, kissing him soundly.

It had been years coming, but he wouldn't have traded that moment for anything, the look on her face, of complete vulnerability, as she let him in.

. . . . .

She avoided him before the interview. She knew he would be supportive and encouraging, but she didn't want to let on just how much she needed (wanted) this job. She needed the money. Daniel had left them with a fairly significant amount of money from his life insurance, but she preferred to save it for Jamie's future, for college, a car. The hours were regular; it was easy enough to get to after dropping Jamie at school in the morning, it was a job she knew she could do well, a job where her unique skill set would actually go to good use, and Tony was there. She almost hated that he was such a large factor in the decision, but he was.

She didn't go to the bullpen until after the interview was over, and then found it empty, save for Hayley, sitting at her old desk.

"Hey, Ziva, right?" She asked, looking up from her computer.

"Yes. Hi, Hayley. How are you?"

"Good. Gibbs and Tony are out picking up a suspect, they should be back fairly soon. McGee's down with Abby, if you're looking for him?"

"Oh. Do you mind if I wait for Tony?" Ziva inquired, unable to stop herself from glancing at his desk. How many hours had she spent here, draped over him in some inappropriate manner, trying to get to him? Probably too many to count.

"Not at all," Hayley answered.

She took a seat at his desk, surprised that things hadn't changed. There were new monitors, but everything else was in its place.

"If Tony asks, I didn't just allow you to snoop through his desk," Hayley called from across the bullpen, and Ziva smiled, still unable to adjust to this new dynamic.

"Of course not. I threatened you with bodily harm until you backed down."

Hayley scoffed, but the look on Ziva's face silenced her quickly.

"I don't back down," she explained, and Ziva smirked.

"That's a good thing," she said, pausing when she saw a photo of Jamie in Tony's second drawer. It wasn't in a frame, and it was blurry, leading to the assumption that he took it on his cell phone. She felt guilt settle in her stomach as she realised that this was probably the only photo that Tony had of his son.

The elevator dinged, and Tony and Gibbs emerged, striding into the bullpen. A goofy grin appeared on Tony's face as he saw her, and Gibbs just rolled his eyes.

"How'd it go, Ziva?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"Pretty well, I think. I do not want to get my hopes up, though."

"You'll get it," Tony assured her confidently.

"I hope you're right," she said, standing.

"I'm always right," he grinned cockily, and she rolled her eyes.

"Come by about six thirty," she told him, before kissing him goodbye quickly on the lips.

"I'll see you guys soon, I hope," she added in Gibbs and Hayley's direction, who were busy working, and they waved in response.

He watched her leave, still smiling, until he saw the look on Hayley's face.

"I see you had a good weekend."

"I did, actually," he responded proudly. "How was yours?"

"Definitely not as good as yours," she laughed. "I'm happy for you," she added sincerely.

"Thanks, Hayley."

"Saw Ziva at the elevator," McGee commented, making his presence in the bullpen known. "It's good to see her round here."

"Is _anyone_ working this case?" Gibbs complained, and at that, they were all back to work.

. . . . .

He had never been more thankful for a simple case. By five he was leaving the Navy Yard, paperwork already having been completed, and by six fifteen he was on their doorstep.

Ziva answered the door with a smile on her face and Jamie close behind her.

"Hey," he smiled, lifting the box behind him carefully.

"What's that?" Jamie asked curiously, as Tony set it down just inside the apartment.

"It's for you," he explained, and Ziva's eyes narrowed.

"A present?" Jamie exclaimed hopefully.

"Yep."

Jamie made quick work of the wrapping paper, revealing a small indoor basketball ring.

"It's for your room, foam ball and everything, so you can practise," Tony explained.

"Awesome, thanks, Tony," Jamie exclaimed, eyes wide as he hugged Tony's legs.

"No worries." Tony opened the box, lifting out the plastic creation. "How about we go set this up?"

Jamie nodded furiously and was already half way down the hallway before Tony looked to Ziva.

"That was sweet of you," she smiled, snaking her arms around his waist. "But you know he's going to break every imaginable thing in his room with that ball."

"Nah. He's got good aim," Tony said faithfully, and she rolled her eyes.

"I have something for you too," she said. "But I'll give it to you later."

"Well I have a kiss for you but I'll give that to you later," he winked, hearing Jamie call his name.

She watched him lift the box swiftly, hurrying down the hallway with the same enthusiasm as Jamie had, only seconds earlier.

. . . . .

The thing was thankfully easy to assemble, only requiring a few minutes work before he was able to hand the small foam ball to Jamie.

"First shot, make it a good one."

The ball hit the top of the backboard and bounced off the near-by wall. Jamie dissolved into a fit of giggles, and Tony laughed with him.

"You practise that. Just don't break anything or your mom will break me," Tony returned, returning to the kitchen, where he found Ziva, chopping vegetables.

"Hey," he smiled, standing behind her and slipping his arms around her waist.

"What did you two break?" She asked, wary.

"Nothing."

She pulled away from his embrace, and he frowned.

"Something wrong?"

"I just… We shouldn't do this while Jamie's around. I want to talk to him about it first."

"About what?" He asked playfully.

"Us. Whatever we're doing. I want to figure it out before we confuse Jamie with it."

"It's not confusing," he argued. "I love you, I love him. I want you both to be in my life. When the time is right, I want to live together. I want to be a family."

She blinked at him, overwhelmed.

"So we're taking things slow, one day at a time, for now?" She verified.

"Yes."

He paused, pensive, as she nodded slowly.

"Can I talk to Jamie about it?" He asked. "I feel like I should make sure it's okay with him rather than just dropping it on him," he explained.

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll finish dinner and you can go play and talk to him."

"Thanks," he leaned over to kiss her, and she turned at the last second, the kiss landing on her cheek as she smirked.

. . . . .

It had been ten minutes, maximum, and Jamie had already improved. Tony watched from the doorway as the ball went in almost every second shot.

"Getting good buddy," he praised, sitting on the child's bed. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Take a shot first," Jamie grinned, throwing Tony the ball. He lifted the ball, effortlessly tossing it through the hoop.

"You're good," Jamie noted, eyes full of wonder.

"So are you," Tony pointed out. "I wanted to talk to you about your mom."

Jamie nodded, climbing onto the bed to sit beside Tony.

"Is something wrong? She's really happy you're here. She doesn't want you to go!" Jamie said frantically.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise," he said, looking Jamie straight in the eye.

"I know you really love your mom," he began. "I guess I just wanted to ask you if it would be okay if I loved her too."

He was nervous, he couldn't help it. Here he was, asking a five year old – his _son_ – for permission to love Ziva. It seemed ridiculous.

"I already know you love her. I thought you knew it too," Jamie said, confusion splayed across his face.

Tony laughed; he didn't know how else to respond.

"But is it okay with you?"

"Are you gunna kiss her?" Jamie asked, scrunching up his nose.

"Yes. But I don't have to do it when you're there," he offered, his mind reeling. He was afraid that it was too soon for Jamie, that it would confuse him, that he would feel as if he was imposing, interfering with his own relationship with Ziva.

"It's okay. I think she likes that you love her. So I like it too."

Jamie stood up, retrieving the foam ball, disinterested in pursuing the conversation further.

"Can you do it with your eyes closed?" He challenged, tossing the ball to Tony.

Tony grinned, closing his eyes.

"No peaking!" Jamie squealed at the last minute, as the ball left Tony's hands, sailing straight through the ring, only touching the net.

"Whoa!" Jamie giggled, eyes full of adoration.

"You keep practising and you'll get there," Tony promised, giving the ball back to Jamie. "I'm going to go help your mom with dinner; you wanna come, or keep playing?"

"We're still friends, right? Even though you love mommy?" Jamie asked, the worry in his eyes evident.

"_Best_ friends, right?" Tony replied, holding his hand out for a high five.

"Best friends," Jamie agreed, following Tony out to the kitchen.

. . . . .

"He still sneaking in to your room?" Tony asked, as they made their way back to the living room after having put Jamie to bed.

"Yes. I'm hoping that with time he'll eventually just start sleeping through the night," she sighed.

"Maybe you should sleep in his room, stop him from leaving his bed. It might speed up the process," he suggested. She nodded, picking up a bag from the kitchen bench before following him to the couch.

"I'll try that tomorrow," she agreed. "This is for you," she added, handing him the bag. He took it, unsure as he reached in to retrieve a framed photo of Jamie.

"It's for your desk," she explained. "I saw the photo you had, and thought you should have a proper one."

"Thank you, Ziva," he said sincerely, lifting the larger item out of the bag with curiousity. It was a photo album, filled with photos of Jamie from when he was born, up until his fifth birthday.

"Thanks," he murmured, kissing her softly.

"I'm really sorry," she whispered, watching him as he poured over the photos, watching Jamie grow up before his eyes.

"We're passed this," he warned her, and she nodded.

"I'm still sorry."

Her words hung in the air, as Tony flipped through the album slowly.

"He looks so much like you," he said, before placing the album on the coffee table and turning to Ziva.

"Thanks for this," he repeated, reaching for her.

"You're welcome," she mumbled, as he leaned in to kiss her slowly.

"You two should come to my place for dinner tomorrow," he suggested.

"Really?" She asked doubtfully. "You mean to say you can actually cook a meal?"

"Hey!" He laughed. "I'll prove you wrong, then."

"Please try," she grinned, a twinkle in her eye.

God, he had missed her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. I am SO sorry for the delay. After I got back it was harder than expected to get back in a mindset conducive to writing this story. HOWEVER when I did sit down to write this chapter, I ended up writing the next one too, so that'll be up in the next couple of days. **

**2. This story is coming to an end! :( As a timeline, there is one more chapter after this, then an epilogue, and then I'm considering a sequel. **

**3. Thank you all so much for your support, and to those who messaged me about the absence of this story, I apologise for this update being later than I intended!**

**4. **_**Special Agent Tee-vah**_**, it's one of my favourites too :)**


	16. All I Need Is You Next To Me

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – _"All I need is you next to me"_

The day had been slow. They had been doing paperwork all morning, due to an unexpected _lack _of cases. McGee had found some excuse to spend the morning helping Abby, and Gibbs was inexplicably absent.

"What do you reckon the boss man's up to?" He asked Hayley, in an effort to pass the time.

"Who knows? He's probably up with Vance."

She seemed intent on catching up on the work, while he was too preoccupied. His phone rang and he answered it quickly, thankful for the distraction.

"Very special Agent DiNozzo," he said, for Hayley's purpose alone. She rolled her eyes at him and he grinned.

"I got the job," Ziva's voice was enthusiastic, and it was contagious.

"Congratulations!" He exclaimed. "That's great."

"I start in two weeks," she told him. "It's so perfect."

"It is. I'm thrilled for you, Ziva."

"Thanks. How's work going?"

"Slowly," he sighed. "No case."

"So you're enjoying the paperwork?" She said, and although her tone was neutral, he could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Yes, actually, I would really like to get back to it," he said sarcastically.

"Gear up," he heard from behind him, and he looked up to see Gibbs striding down the stairs.

"No such luck," he heard Ziva in his ear, as he reached into his drawer for his gun, acting on auto-pilot after hearing those words. Pulling his coat on with the phone tucked under his ear turned out a little more difficult.

"Be safe," she said softly.

"I will, see you tonight."

"Bye."

He hung up quickly, surprised how much those two words got to him. _Be safe_. They reminded him that whatever happened, there were two people waiting for him. Regardless of whether they were living together, there was a commitment there, and for once in his life, commitment sounded pretty good.

. . . . .

It was a miracle that he got home before Jamie and Ziva arrived. The case had taken a turn mid-afternoon, which usually meant cancelling all plans for the evening and the foreseeable future until the case was closed. But thankfully, they arrested the victim's brother in law just before six and he confessed on the spot. So Tony managed to arrive home five minutes before they arrived, which gave him precisely enough time to open the fridge, and be thankful that he had prepared the meal the night before.

"So what are we eating?" Ziva asked, as she and Jamie sat on the stools at the bench, while Tony poured a glass of juice for Jamie.

"Pizza," he responded, fully expecting the eye roll.

"Tony –" she began, but he held up a finger, stopping her.

"We're making pizza," he clarified, placing three pizza bases on the bench, then reaching into the fridge to retrieve bowls of toppings.

"Awesome!" Jamie exclaimed, excitedly reaching for the tomato paste.

"Tony, he's going to –" Ziva started, but he stopped her again, producing one of his old t-shirts that he knew would cover Jamie from head to toe.

"Now he can spill as much tomato paste he wants," Tony grinned, satisfied when Ziva held up her hands in defeat.

"So you're not going to cook for us?" She teased, trying to help Jamie keep the food on the pizza.

"Oh Ziva," he shook his head, opening the fridge. "Chocolate mousse, which I made from scratch," he bowed and she laughed throatily.

"I'll see if it's edible before making any judgements," she smirked.

"You're quite hard to please," he responded, his voice playful.

"Not particularly," she returned, her voice a touch too seductive for him to continue this conversation with Jamie in the room, although the child was too busy decorating his pizza in a smiley face to listen.

"How's it going Jamie?" Tony changed the conversation, not missing the triumphant expression on Ziva's face.

"Good," Jamie turned to face him, and Tony saw the need for the cover over his clothes. Tomato paste was splashed across his front, cheese somehow mushed into the fabric.

"Oh, Jamie," Ziva sighed, choosing to laugh at the mess of toppings surrounding him.

"Done!" Jamie declared, as Tony stared down at his own base, empty save for the tomato paste.

"Can you help me with mine?" He requested, moving the base closer to Jamie, who nodded furiously, already reaching for the cheese.

"You almost ready Ziva?" Tony asked, looking over to Ziva's pizza. She was clearly a better multi-tasker.

Not that he'd ever tell her that.

. . . . .

"This was a good idea, Tony," Ziva conceded, as she wiped the food off Jamie's T-shirt, opting to leave it on him for the eating portion of the meal as well.

"Thank you," he grinned. "I also have this, for later," he produced _Finding Nemo_, handing it to Jamie.

"You bought that for him?"

"It's a classic Ziva; I'm ashamed I didn't already have it in my collection."

She shook her head, as Jamie smiled.

"This is my favourite," he said proudly.

"It's pretty good, huh?"

The timer went off for the pizzas, and Tony took them out carefully, depositing them on plates while Ziva set the table.

"Can I eat with my hands?" Jamie asked, staring at his pizza indecisively.

"Of course, buddy," Tony responded, frowning.

"Mommy said when I'm out I have to eat with a knife and fork," he explained.

"Pizza can't be eaten with a knife and fork, Jamie," Tony said. "It's not allowed," he demonstrated, picking up a piece with one hand and taking a huge bite.

Jamie nodded, diving in, hands first. Some of the toppings inevitably fell onto his lap, but thankfully the t-shirt was big enough to cover his legs.

"I think we deem this Jamie's pizza shirt," Tony declared, peeling the now almost all red monstrosity off the child. Whenever we make pizza, this is your shirt."

Ziva smiled, stacking plates in the sink.

"Leave it, Ziva," he told her as she started washing up. "Chocolate mousse and _Finding Nemo_," he ordered, pointing toward the couch.

"Fine," she sighed dramatically, but the way the edges of her lips turned up in a smile gave her away.

"You may carry the tray," he allowed, handing her the tray carrying the chocolate mousse dishes and spoons. He loaded the DVD, taking a seat beside her.

"So, what's the verdict?" He asked, as they started chocolate mousse.

"Not bad," Ziva said, as Jamie answered "real good."

Tony chuckled, taking his own dish and pressing play.

Dessert was finished fifteen minutes into the movie, and by the time it hit the twenty minute mark, Jamie was fast asleep, his head resting on Ziva's lap.

"Tonight was great, Tony," she told him, as she stroked Jamie's hair mindlessly.

"It was," he agreed. "I keep feeling like this is too good to be true, this night, you, me, Jamie," he confessed.

She nodded, understanding. "Everything has happened so quickly in the last few days I keep having to remind myself that it is real."

"It's real," he told her softly. "I've been waiting so long for this."

"Me too," she admitted, kissing him. She had always expected their kisses to be desperate, passionate, and hasty, but this was a different kind of passion. They were taking their time, and while unexpected, she loved every minute of it. They were aware that this wasn't leading anywhere further tonight, that this kiss would be as far as it went, and that was okay.

"I was thinking," she began, as he pulled away, slightly breathless. "Are you free Friday?" She inquired.

He nodded immediately. "The three of us could do something? Movies, Mini-golf?" He suggested, but she shook her head.

"Just the two of us," she clarified. "Lissa offered to watch Jamie; we could pick him up on our way back."

"Sounds great," he answered. "What do you want to do?"

She shrugged. "Something we can't do _with_ Jamie," she said, and he nodded, his brain scrambling to figure out other possibilities than sex, which was the first thing that had jumped to mind. He couldn't be sure that that was what she meant.

"Can you give me an example?" He asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"A movie that isn't animated?"

He nodded. Clearly they hadn't been on the same wavelength. She kissed him again, hard this time.

"Then maybe see where it takes us."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, his hand still rubbing up and down her side.

"I should take Jamie home," she sighed, looking at the child's face; so peaceful. "I hate waking him."

He kissed her again quickly, while given the opportunity. He loved that he could, now. He'd never take it for granted.

"Thanks for tonight," she murmured against his lips, before kissing him again.

"Anytime," he replied as she pulled away. "You want me to carry him down to the car?" He offered, gesturing to Jamie.

"Yeah, that'd be great," she agreed, as he stood, lifting Jamie from Ziva's lap. He stirred, but only momentarily, before resting his head on Tony's shoulder and falling back to sleep.

"Can we do something Saturday, all three of us?" He asked as they began down the stairs.

"Sure, what would you like to do?"

"You guys can decide," he said, carefully setting Jamie in his car seat.

"Okay. So I'll see you Friday?"

"Can't wait." He kissed her again before she got in the car, taking his time.

"Love you," she said, after pulling away and getting in the car.

"Love you too," he replied, closing the car door and watching as she drove away.

. . . . .

By the time Friday came around, he was exhausted. They'd been working the most recent case non-stop for days, and by the time they solved it, mid Friday afternoon, he was wanting nothing more than to go home and sleep the weekend away.

Gibbs had even ordered them to go home and get some rest, knowing that paperwork completed after working so long with no sleep would be useless.

"Thank God we're not on duty this weekend," Hayley moaned, as they entered the elevator. She looked the worst of all of them. "I think I'll sleep right through til Monday."

"Mmm," McGee agreed, as Tony yawned, knowing he'd have to settle for a three hour nap. No way was he cancelling. He had waited far too long to take a rain check over a little exhaustion.

. . . . .

Within seconds of arriving at Lissa's, Jamie and Zoe had disappeared to the playroom, leaving Ziva and Lissa chuckling in the doorway.

"Bye, Jamie," Ziva called, laughing, following Lissa to the kitchen to make coffee.

Jamie came back moments later, wrapping a hug around Ziva's legs.

"Bye, Mommy," he responded, before returning to Zoe.

"So you looking forward to tonight?" Lissa asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," Ziva replied, at which Lissa turned to her, suspicious.

"You are not allowed to feel guilty," she told Ziva sternly, placing a cup of coffee in front of her.

"I'm afraid to rush into anything too soon," Ziva admitted.

"From what you've told me, this isn't soon. It's ten years overdue."

At that, Ziva rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to argue before Lissa interrupted her. "Does it feel too soon?" She inquired.

"It doesn't feel too soon, but I feel as if it should," Ziva explained.

"Daniel would want you to be happy. I know that sounds silly and clichéd, but that's one thing I know for sure," Lissa stated, unwavering.

"It's just… Different when Jamie's not there."

"That's because you hide behind him, you pretend that Tony's only there to see Jamie. You need to stop making excuses, and just let yourself be happy. You deserve it."

"Do I?" Her voice was painfully unsure, painfully vulnerable, coming from a woman who Lissa had only ever seen be strong to a fault.

"Yes," she said, without hesitation. "So go have your fun, please, and tell me all about it when you come to get Jamie," she grinned, opening the door.

"I'll see you tonight,"

"I won't wait up, so you might have to knock loudly," Lissa warned.

"Nine at the latest," Ziva promised, as Lissa rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll believe that when I see it."

. . . . .

The sound of his phone ringing woke Tony with a start, and he reached for it in an effort to just make it shut up.

"'lo?" He mumbled, trying to pry his eyes open.

"Tony?" Ziva's voice woke him up instantly, as his eyes flew to the clock on his night stand.

"Am I late?" He asked, the figures in front of him blurring as he blinked.

"No, I was just calling to ask what the plan was for tonight. Were you asleep?"

"Kinda," he mumbled, the time coming into focus. 5.30. "Stupid case took forever. I don't think I've slept since I spoke to you last."

"Oh, well if you want to do this another night –" she started, but he cut her off.

"No, no. Um. Maybe if we just had a quiet night, a movie, takeout, that sort of thing?" He suggested, sitting up slowly.

"Sure. You want me to come over there?"

"Nah, it's fine. Just let me jump in the shower and I'll head over. I'll see you soon."

"Okay, see you soon."

. . . . .

He fell asleep half an hour into the first movie, which certainly proved just how tired he was. Tony DiNozzo did not sleep through movies. He woke when he heard the door slam, opening his eyes to see Ziva holding a bag full of takeout.

"I ordered Chinese," she explained, setting it on the coffee table in front of him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Sorry I'm such a lousy date," he returned, sitting up. "Guess I can't handle the all-nighters like I used to."

"It's fine," said, taking a seat beside him. "This is nice."

"What? Listening to me snore over the movie?" He laughed. "Don't lie."

"It's relaxing, comfortable, being here with you," she explained.

"Boring?"

"Definitely not. Your sleep talking is quite entertaining," she smirked, kissing him quickly before handing him a container of food. "Eat, go back to sleep. We can always try this again next week," she assured him.

"Okay," he agreed easily, smiling. "I hope you were joking about that sleep talking thing," he narrowed his eyes, and she just laughed in response.

"You'll never know."

. . . . .

She left Tony asleep on the couch, and a note on the coffee table explaining where she was when she left to get Jamie, arriving at 9.01.

"You disappoint me," Lissa sighed as she opened the door. "I was all ready to get the call asking if Jamie could stay the night."

"Jamie awake?" Ziva inquired.

"Not quite," Lissa laughed, leading Ziva into the playroom. Jamie and Zoe were lying side by side on the couch, sleeping peacefully, with some sort of Disney princess movie flickering on the small television in the corner.

"I have to take a photo," Ziva smiled, reaching for her phone.

"That won't be your reaction when they're sixteen and we find them like this," Lissa replied, a playful smile on her lips.

"Don't remind me," Ziva laughed, pocketing her phone and reaching for Jamie.

"Come on Jamie, time to go," she murmured, lifting him into her arms.

"Mommy?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"We gotta go home, baby," she explained.

"I'll see you on Sunday," she whispered to Lissa, who nodded. "I told Jamie I'd take them to the movies."

"I'll drop Zoe off at 2," Lissa agreed.

"Thanks for watching him," Ziva said, as she stepped out the door.

"Anytime."

. . . . .

After finally convincing Jamie to change into his pyjamas and then getting him to bed, Ziva looked to Tony, who hadn't moved since she left.

"Tony," she whispered, running a hand through his hair slowly. "You'll hurt your back sleeping on the couch," she told him, as his eyes fluttered open. He took the hand she held out, and followed her, half asleep, to her room.

"This isn't exactly how I imagined this happening," he mumbled, as she helped him unbutton his shirt.

"Next time," she promised, chucking as he slipped under the covers now clad in only boxers, falling asleep almost instantly.

She went back to the kitchen, throwing away the takeout containers and turning off lights. She locked the door and checked in on Jamie before returning to Tony. Changing quickly, she got into bed beside him, watching him sleep. Residual guilt melting away, she sighed contently, closing her eyes.

Maybe they _were_ ten years overdue.

. . . . .

She woke suddenly, as she realised that the body beside her was much bigger than she had expected. She opened her eyes to see Tony, snoring lightly, Jamie nowhere to be seen. The clock read 08.23, so she got up slowly, reaching the kitchen to see Jamie eating cereal at the table.

"Jamie," she grinned, realising that it was the first night in three months that he had spent in his own bed.

"'Morning," he mumbled through a mouthful of Cheerios.

"You slept in your own bed all night?" She verified, and he nodded.

"Tony was there," he stated, confused.

"Yeah, Tony had a big day at work and he was too tired to drive home," she explained, realising that it sounded like a poor excuse. But Jamie just nodded, satisfied.

"But that's great, baby, I'm proud of you," she told him, kissing his cheek.

"Is he gunna stay today?" Jamie asked, sliding the cereal box across the table to Ziva.

"Yeah, he wanted to spend the day, the three of us together. We can do anything you want."

"Like a family?" Jamie questioned, eyes hopeful.

"Yeah." Ziva smiled. "Like a family."

* * *

><p>End.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**1. I know I said there would be an epilogue, but I combined it with this chapter instead. **

**2****. I am planning to write a sequel, however it will take some time. I haven't even started writing it yet. I also have half a dozen T/Z one shots sitting on my computer that are almost finished, so hopefully they will be up in the near future.**

**3. **WOW. I can't believe that this story has come to an end! I can't thank you all enough for the reviews, alerts and favourites, it really means a lot to me. I love you guys.****

**:)**


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